The Secret Keeper
by md1016
Summary: Harry's 7th Year. Not a 7th book replacement, no final battle. One character death, sorry. HarryGinny, RonHermione, TonksLupin, Charlieother. Sexual situations, rape, strong language. Not appropriate for children or teens under 17.
1. Prologue

Prologue

"Ginny, listen. I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together."

He said it because he knew it had to be said. It was as clear to him as anything ever had been. Her being with him put her in danger, yes, but there was even more to it than that. Harry had finally understood what providence had been trying to tell him his entire life. He wasn't meant to have something as wonderful as Ginny.

"It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?" She wore a small, knowing smile when she said it, and Harry wished he could've told her yes. He wished he were the hero she saw when she looked at him like that. He wished he could kiss her again.

"It's been like…like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you. But I can't…we can't…I've got things to do alone now." Now and for the rest of his life. It would be a difficult existence, but Harry was at peace with it. Dumbledore was gone, lying in the marble sarcophagus, and now it was Harry's responsibility alone to stop Voldemort. That's how it was supposed to have been all along. No Dumbledore, no Sirius, no parents to guide and help him.

Better to give her back than have her taken.

"Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to," Harry explained, watching how her hair played in the light breeze, like dancing sunlight. She was so beautiful. "He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know. He'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you."

"What if I don't care?" And there was his Ginny, all stubborn and fiery and gorgeous. Harry couldn't help but smile. He would miss her terribly.

"I care." He resisted tucking that lock of errant hair behind her ear. "How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral, and it was my fault?"

She didn't want to hear it, but he knew that she had. She was accepting what he said far easier than he'd anticipated. She understood what he was trying to tell her. Ginny was great that way; she always understood him.

"I never really gave up on you," she said with a far away voice. She was looking over the lake, seeing years past. She reminded him of how she used to stammer in his presence, how shy she was, and how Hermione had advised her to let Harry see the real Ginny. The girl behind the hero-worship, the young witch beneath the crush. Hermione had known that the real Ginny would be a girl he couldn't resist.

"Smart girl, that Hermione." Too smart, and she knew him far too well. "I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages…months…years maybe." The thought of dating Ginny for years, of kissing her and touching her - of being touched by her - it made his throat go dry.

"But you've been too busy saving the Wizarding world," Ginny said with a sad laugh. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much."

So, she did understand. Ginny was the best. God, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her and crush her to him. He wanted to shake her and make her fight him, convince him that he was wrong and that he needed her. He was thankful that she didn't. He never could leave her if she did. And he needed to leave. It was time.


	2. Chapter 1  Home Sweet Home

Part 1 - Summer

Chapter 1 - Home Sweet Home

Privet Drive was as mundane - as Muggle - as it was possible to be. The rows of houses were lined up like great brown teeth, and the neatly manicured, minuscule front gardens like carpets set out to dry in the sun. No children played in the street; their parents had them secreted away lest they skin a knee or bump a head. These were the worst things a Muggle parent's mind could dream up, as their imaginations had long ago gone the way of their neighborhood. And this was the place Harry Potter called home. Well, just for another thirty days. Thirty days.

Harry stood there for a moment and braced himself for the month ahead. He could do this. And he should be doing it alone. With a grumble Harry motioned to the two behind him and started toward the house. They dragged their trunks just in case any of the neighbors happened to look out a polished window. Wouldn't want the Muggles catching sight of magic, would he? It might disturb their safe, cosseted view of the world.

"All right there, Harry?"

"Brilliant," he bit out. He was starting to feel yesterday's calm slip away with every step he took from Ginny, and an old, familiar bitterness congeal in its place. But it was only for a month, and he told himself that over and over as he walked in the front door.

Harry purposely timed their arrival so that Uncle Vernon would be away at work, but there was nothing he could do about Aunt Petunia. She rushed out of the kitchen and came to a stunned halt at the sight of not just Harry, but Ron and Hermione behind him as well. Her over-large eyes scanned their trunks and quickly deduced that they weren't there for a quick visit.

"We haven't the room," she immediately protested. "I've a budget – I can't feed them!"

"They'll stay in my room," Harry said, already heading up the stairs. His friends followed faithfully behind him. "And we're only here for a month. The minute I turn seventeen I'm gone and you'll never see me again."

She sputtered, muttered under her breath, but she didn't follow. He knew she wouldn't.

His room was smaller than he remembered - it always was when he returned from the spacious dorms at Hogwarts. It smelled musty and stale. From the amount of dust that had collected on the bed and small desk, Harry doubted the door had even been opened in the last eleven months. With a resigned sigh, he dropped his trunk in the corner, and once Ron and Hermione followed suit, he closed the door. Between the sparse furniture, their trunks, and the three of them, there wasn't enough room to breathe.

Harry looked up to see Ron and Hermione staring at him.

"What?"

Ron shrugged. "Sort of reminds me of my room at the Burrow. Only smaller."

"It was your brilliant idea to follow me here," Harry reminded him, a little more harshly than he'd intended. He'd told them he needed to do this alone. They hadn't listened.

Hermione pulled out her wand. "Perhaps we can stretch it a bit."

"A bit?" Ron scoffed. He flopped backward on to the bed. A small plume of dust blossomed around him. "Nice." Ron said, and he kicked off his trainers, laced his finger behind his head. "So, Harry, this is your home away from home, eh? Got anything to eat?"

Hermione sized up the closet on the other side of the bed. "I think I can..." She gave her wand a flip and muttered: "_Romiliad_." The closet jumped in the air, spun around three times and, shoving the bed up against the desk, turned into a small couch.

"That's bloody brilliant!" Ron said with a lopsided smile as he gazed at the green and brown stripped chair. It looked like the small couch in the corner of the Gryffindor common room. "How'd you do that?"

Hermione's cheeks went a light pink. "Don't swear. It's a variation on _Vera Verto_ from last year's Transfiguration. I've been working on it, seeing what else I can manage. Turning a mouse into a cup doesn't seem terribly practical," Hermione said. She scanned the room and raised her wand again. Harry stopped her with a hand to her wrist.

"Never mind," Harry said. "This isn't going to work. There isn't enough room here for the three of us. You two should go to the Burrow. I'll see you there in a month."

"Don't be ridiculous," she admonished. "Just let me think for a moment." She bit her lip while she pondered the couch and bed. Or was she pondering Ron?

They'd been doing that a lot since the funer...since yesterday. Or was it before that? Really, when Harry thought about it, the two of them seemed to have reached some mutual understanding back when Lavender broke it off with Ron. Or, was it even before that? When Ron was poisoned, maybe? Hermione had spent quite a bit of time with him while he was in the infirmary. That was the beginning of March - though it hardly mattered. It was yesterday while they cried on each other, comforted each other that the real change seemed to have happened. Amid the mourning and speeches, something significant shifted between them. It was then that their touching outlasted simple friendship. Ron's caresses were a little too comforting, and Hermione's embrace lingered a little too long. They hadn't seemed to notice anyone else was there; as if the two of them were caught up in their own world; as if Harry hadn't existed at all.

And now, Hermione stood directly beside Harry – so close they should be touching, and yet weren't - and her gaze remained stuck on Ron, while Ron's was carefully averted. Harry purposely jerked his hand so that it tapped Hermione's side, and she jumped out of her reverie. Harry didn't want to see this - whatever this was. Was it the beginning of a real relationship? Would they start dating there in Harry's room, with him a captive witness? For a whole month?

"No, really," Harry said, "go to the Burrow."

Ron casually crossed his ankles, his eyes on the ceiling. "You know, I could get used to this. A month in here without homework or chores, no mum to answer to, no worries. We'll all be lovely and fat. Lounging all day-"

"There's nothing lovely about being fat, Ron," Hermione said tartly, and then turned to Harry. "I've got an idea. Back in a jiff." She took a gulp of air, and in the next second there was a deafening CRACK, and she was gone.

Ron flinched. "Bloody hell. I hate it when she does that. The twins aren't quite so loud when they apparate now, so there's hope I suppose, but then I don't remember them ever being that loud."

"Reckon she'll be gone long?"

"I reckon she's gone to fetch some books. How long could that take?"

Harry slipped into the chair over the padded arm. He told himself to relax. He told himself that he didn't care that his best friends fancied each other, because he didn't. At least they weren't constantly bickering. He squelched the errant thoughts of Ginny that always seemed to lurk just at the fringes of his mind.

"I reckon you're right. But she could tell us, couldn't she?" Harry griped. "Just because she's got her license and we don't…"

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed, though from his voice Harry knew he was already half asleep.

Harry glared at the wall. He was back in Privet Drive. And somehow, even with his best mates with him, this was going to be the longest month of his life.

Harry was just about to nod off when there was another deafening BANG and Hermione reappeared near the door. She exhaled, and dropped the bag flung over her shoulder.

"Pop up," she said to Harry. She began pulling heavy folded fabric out of the bag.

"Oi! That's Dad's tent, is it?" Ron jumped up to help her.

She nodded. "We need more space than this room will provide," Hermione said succinctly, and transfigured the couch back into a wardrobe. "If we put the wardrobe and desk on top of the bed there should be enough room for us to set up the tent. Then, there will be enough room for the three of us to live for a while."

Ron gaped at Hermione like she was the most amazing thing he'd ever set eyes on. Harry cuffed his shoulder to knock him out of it. They got to work.

The tent was, on the outside, a two man job with the ropes stuck in place by magic rather than posts through the carpet. Inside, it was the two room flat that Hermione and Ginny had shared at the Quidditch World Cup a few years previous. There was a small kitchen with a stove and a refrigerator, and a small loo with a stand-up shower. Two narrow beds were already made in the second room, and a lumpy, smelly couch sat in the main room, along with a circular table and two straight-back chairs. The quarters were still close for the three of them, and judging from Ron's red face as he glanced in the small bedroom, he seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Bit…sparce, isn't it?" Ron said.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the Burrow?" Harry asked. His question went ignored.

"Harry?"

It was a muffled, but familiar voice, and Harry crawled out of the tent to find a stocky, muscular man bearing the Weasley shade of ginger standing by the window. Harry had only met him once, and only in passing (Harry had been distracted by the upcoming Tri-Wizard Tournament task), but he'd know Charlie Weasley anywhere. It was his easy smile and happy demeanour that Harry remembered, and the way Charlie could look at a person he'd just met as if they were his long-lost friend that made him unforgettable.

"Harry! How the hell are you?" Charlie opened the window, and Hedwig gave his finger a hello nip. Apparently she liked him, too.

Harry pulled an owl treat from his pocket, and tossed it to her. She caught it effortlessly, and gave him a happy coo in return.

"How are you holding up?" Charlie asked.

Was he asking about Dumbledore or the Dursleys? Or both? "I'm good," Harry told him.

Hermione and Ron crawled out from the tent behind him.

"Charlie!"

"Oi, little brother! Posh place you've got here." Charlie scanned the room. "Clever."

"It's all Hermione," Ron bragged. Hermione blushed again.

"Brilliant," Charlie complimented, and then gave her a broad smile. He gestured to the tent. "Shall we?"

They settled on the couch, and Charlie pulled up one of the chairs. When he sat, he Imperviused the tent flaps. "We live in difficult times. I trust each of you know how to Impervius. Use it whenever you discuss Order, regardless of where you are. Even inside Headquarters."

"So, this is Order business?" Hermione asked, clearly excited.

"Yes," Charlie said. He glanced nervously at Ron. "You must be wondering what I'm doing here."

"It did cross my mind," Ron said, smiling and nodding. "Does Mum know you're in England? She's going to have kittens!"

"Er…yeah." Charlie ran a hand over the large silvery patch of scar tissue on the back of his neck. "Here's the thing: They've asked me to be the new Secret Keeper for the Order, and I've said yes."

"Are you…" Ron looked gobsmacked. "Are you joking?"

"I'm taking the oath tonight."

"What?" Ron jumped up. "You can't! You're too young! And…and you've been gone for years now! What do you know about the Order, anyway?"

"Bloody, hell, Ron," Charlie grumbled. "You sound like Mum."

"Yeah? Well, maybe you should listen to her! Maybe she knows what she's talking about!"

"Ron?" Hermione whispered. "What's gotten in to you?"

"In to me?" Ron snapped. "What's gotten in to him? Look at what happened to the last Secret Keeper! If they can get to Dumbledore-"

"The traitor Snape got Dumbledore," Harry told him.

"Yeah! Snape! A Death Eater!" Ron turned to his brother. "What makes you think you'll be safe?"

"It's not about safety," Charlie said. "Dumbledore named me as his successor, and I won't let him down. I trust Dumbledore. It's as simple as that."

"Like hell it is!"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

Ron ignored her. "Why did you even come here? To gloat?"

"Gloat? What are you…?" Charlie took a deep breath, and looked over the three of them. "I came as the Order's future Secret Keeper to invite the three of you to take your oaths tonight."

Ron's jaw dropped again, and Hermione's face lit up. "Tonight?" she asked. "Honestly?"

"I know Harry's got another month before he reaches majority, but seeing as we'll be gathered tonight, it seems a good time." Charlie eyed his brother. "I understand your concerns. I wish I could say I didn't share them. But this is something that I have to do. It's not, however, something that you have to do, and if you choose not to come tonight I'll understand."

Charlie stood then and walked to the flaps. "Talk about it. We're meeting at Headquarters at nine. Mad-Eye and Tonks will be your escorts – Harry, don't argue. McGonagall didn't want you leaving Privet Drive at all until your birthday, but I convinced her that you should be given this opportunity. The escort was an easy compromise." Charlie left then, and Harry heard him Disapparate.

Once he was gone, Ron dropped back down on the couch with a scowl on his face, and his arms crossed. "Bloody nutter. Mum's going to die when he bites it. Die, I say."

"So, you're worried about your mother, then?" Hermione asked.

"Someone's got to," Ron snapped. "Bloody git will get himself killed before Christmas, I reckon, and then where will the Order be? Without another Secret Keeper! That's where!"

"No, he won't. The Order isn't about to let another Secret Keeper go," Hermione insisted. "And I'm going to be one of them." She looked to Harry for support.

"I know we never really talked about it," Harry said, "but haven't we always known we'd join as soon as we were able? At least since Fred and George took their oaths."

"So, you both really want to do it?" Ron asked.

"Don't you?" Hermione pressed.

He looked at her, and she looked at him, and then both of them looked away, cheeks flushed.

"Reckon we'll be flying to Headquarters, then." Ron asked, staring intently at the toe of his shoe. "Seeing as Moody and Tonks will fetch us."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Oh…I hope not. Surely they'll bring a Portkey."

"To Headquarters? Who would make it? Only the Secret Keeper can tell where it is." A broad grin cracked Ron's sour face, and his chest puffed out a little as he said, "Oh, don't worry, Hermione. If we fly, you can ride with me."

* * *

The last time Harry flew it had been with Dumbledore. It was hard not to think of him, hard to fight the dark thoughts and inexplicable anger. Where had yesterday's calm gone? Where was that blissful certainty? The resolve? Why, when he'd been at the funeral where everyone else was crying and sad, had Harry been at his most peaceful? Why now, when he was flying alongside his best mates under a clear and starry sky on a warm summer night did Harry want to hurt someone – anyone?

They were just supposed to take it easy in standard operating formation; Moody was in the lead with Harry, and Ron following. Hermione rode white-knuckled in front of Ron, who curled himself around her as if they did this sort of thing every day. Her hair blew back over his shoulder, and a strand was caught between his lips. He made no attempt to remove it. Shacklebolt and Bill flanked the three of them, and Tonks brought up the rear. An easy flight, Mad-Eye had said. Not even a whiff of Death Eater activities anywhere in southern England.

It was exactly what Harry hadn't wanted to hear. He needed some hard flying, some way to work his muscles and exorcise his demons. He wanted to sweat, to ache from doing something; to get away from his friends for a little while, and get Ginny's pretty face out of his head.

Finally, they landed on the familiar, dingy inner city street. A few blocks over a dog barked. There were some lights on in the surrounding homes, but they were dimmed through the dirty windows. No Muggles could be seen. Number 12 ballooned into existence, and the group scurried up the steps while Moody lagged behind and his magic eye swept the street. The house smelled like roast and fresh bread. Ron's mum was there. Harry's belly grumbled.

They went down to the basement kitchen, where a food-laden table had been pushed against a wall, and chairs arranged for a small audience. Ron's parents were there, as were the twins, and Professor McGonagall. Harry mustered a smile and head nod for her.

Bill stood with his fiancé Fleur, and they looked happy enough as they talked and shared a glass of wine. He laughed, and then turned to his mother, to let her in on the joke. Smiling, she reached up and cupped her son's cheek, ran her thumb over his heavy stubble and the scar he'd received from the werewolf Greyback the week before. She looked at him with such unabashed love and adoration that Harry had to turn away.

He found Ron and Hermione by the table. They whispered with their heads bent together. That was not for him, either.

Harry stepped away, back to the wall and watched as Tonks and Shacklebolt found their seats, and Lupin causally took the chair next to them. She smiled at him, and he at her. Her eyes lingered on his lips. Harry sighed.

"Let's do this, shall we?" Harry turned to see Charlie in the doorway. "We've got a ceremony to finish, a headquarters to re-charm, and a party to start." His thin lips broke into a wide, infectious grin that even prim Professor McGonagall had to fight not to return. She cleared her throat in supposed irritation, but Harry could tell she was more amused than annoyed by Charlie's relaxed manner.

Who was this person who could charm the ever proper McGonagall with a wise-crack and a smile during an oath-giving ceremony? The look of adoration Mrs. Weasley had given Bill was now shifted to her second eldest. Everyone seemed to share it. Harry looked back at Charlie, wanting to see what they saw. He wasn't as tall or as handsome as Bill, or even Ron, but Harry did have to agree that there was something about Charlie, about his casualness, his humor, his confidence that made up for pale eyes that were a bit too small, a nose that was a little too wide, a blunt jaw, broad cheeks. When he gazed around the room, Harry could tell that he was seeing his most favorite people in the world. He managed to say that with a look.

Charlie stepped in front of them all. "Wotcher," he said to Tonks. She winked at him. Then, he pulled out a wand that was all too familiar. Harry's breath caught in his throat and he coughed. Charlie had Dumbledore's wand.

He pulled out a second wand that could only be his own, and considered it for a moment. "I've had this for fifteen years. It's hard to let it go, after everything we've been through." He shared a look with Bill and then sighed. "You might want to avert your eyes for this - I'm told there will be fireworks."

There was tension in his thick, ginger brows as he touched his wand to Dumbledore's. "_Ishcantus pomilium servetia."_ The instantaneous flash was accompanied with a deafening boom that actually knocked Harry back a step. He hit the wall. Everyone in the room flinched violently, except for Charlie. He stood like a monolith; a great stone effigy; the man who would be Dumbledore.

No. Charlie Weasley would never be Dumbledore.

As everyone began to recover, Harry realized Charlie wasn't as unmoved as he seemed. He stood staring down at his left hand, at the splintered remains of his wand. When he lifted his gaze he looked lost for a moment or two, but then the familiar, confident smile returned, as did the spark in his eyes. "Well," he said. "That's that, then. Long live…me, I suppose."

Another round of cheers was punctuated by Mrs. Weasley's rush forward from her chair. "Charlie, dear, you're bleeding." He had several small shards of his old wand embedded in his hand.

"It's good, Mum," he said, shooing her away.

"Nonsense. Give me your hand."

"It's nothing."

"No arguments, Charlie. I'm still your mum, now give me your blasted hand before I give you another to match it!"

He rolled his eyes and gave in. Laughs and playful jeers came from all sides. It only took her a moment to right his hand, and then Charlie turned his attention to Ron.

"Thank you for coming," he said with all sincerity. "Have you decided to make your oaths tonight?"

Ron nodded, and he and Hermione stood. Harry joined them. And, as Charlie's eyes fell on Harry, he frowned. "Oh."

Hermione fidgeted beside Harry. "Oh?" she asked.

Charlie glanced down at Dumbledore's wand, and then back at Harry. "I've just gained all the knowledge that was Whispered to Dumbledore over the last twenty years. It's…" And, again his eyes landed on Harry. Charlie looked older in that moment, and his normally happy face darkened. "Harry, I know I offered you a place in the Order, but…I'm afraid I'm going to have to rescind."

"What?" Hermione gasped. There was a low murmur from the rest of the room, as well.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Charlie said. "I was too hasty in my invitation. There were things I didn't yet understand."

"You don't trust him?" Ron challenged. "You don't trust Harry Potter to be in the Order?"

"Trust is not the issue," Charlie said. "It is more a question of timing. Harry, you will be Order someday, I'm sure of it. But now is not your time. There are things you will have to do on your own. Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted this now. Not so soon."

His eyes prickled, and Harry glared at the ground, forced his expression neutral. So, Dumbledore did know, then. Harry was meant to go it alone.

"This is bullocks!" Ron shouted.

"Not now, Ron," Hermione said, distracted. Harry could feel her eyes on him.

"I don't suppose you could be any more cryptic," Harry snapped to Charlie. "You sound like a poor man's Dumbledore."

"Now that was un-called for, Harry," Lupin said, as he rose to his feet. "I understand that you're disappointed, clearly Ron and Hermione are as well."

"You have no idea what I'm feeling," Harry said quietly. He looked at Charlie. "Do you? Do you know now that you have his wand? Can you see his last moments?"

"All I know is what was Whispered," Charlie told him. "Gathered knowledge."

An angry buzz throbbed in Harry's temple. "Then you don't know what Dumbledore would want! I was there when Snape snuffed him! I saw it happen! He murdered him and then threw his body off the wall like he was rubbish and I saw the whole bloody thing! And Dumbledore didn't fight him! He didn't even lift his wand! He just stood there! And you think you know what he wanted? He wanted to die! He all but begged for it! He left me there, frozen and alone on purpose! That's what he wanted! He wanted me to be alone!"

"Harry, listen to me," Lupin said, and he put a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "It was a horrible thing you had to witness, but Dumbledore did what he had to do to keep you safe."

Harry jerked away. "If that was true then he wouldn't have frozen me! He would've let me fight - _he_ would've fought!"

"It _is_ true, Harry! You know it! Dumbledore was protecting you-"

"Dumbledore left me!" Harry couldn't help but look at Hermione and Ron.

Harry pulled himself up straighter. He hadn't meant to make a scene. He took a deep breath. "Ron and Hermione can still take their oaths?"

Charlie slowly nodded.

"No," Ron said. "Not without Harry."

"You should do it," Harry told them. "And you should probably stay at Headquarters this summer. It's where you belong."

"Not without you," Hermione said.

"It's all right," Harry assured her. "Really. I do understand. I'm meant to do this alone. I get it. I don't need anyone else to die, it's been made perfectly clear."

"Harry? What are you-"

"I'm going home. Nothing's going to happen on Privet Drive – that's why Dumbledore wanted me there. It's why he wouldn't want me here. I'll be fine."

"But Harry-" Ron protested.

"Honestly! I don't need you. Just make your oath. I'll see you in a month."

Hermione grabbed his wrist as he turned away, and when he looked at her she had tears in her eyes. "You don't mean that," she whispered. "You're just upset."

"No," he told her. "I'm alone."

He left on his broom, though he wasn't so far gone that he didn't know he was being tailed. Probably Moody. But the old wizard kept his distance, at least, and let Harry fly as hard as he needed to until he at last touched down on Privet Drive exhausted and sweating, with nothing in his mind beyond sleep.


	3. Chapter 2 Ron and Hermione, and Harry

Part 1 – Summer

Chapter 2 – Ron and Hermione, and Harry

Harry woke to the smell of coffee. He blinked. Not Hogwarts. He looked up at the tent ceiling and remembered just where he was. But the coffee didn't make sense. Harry yawned, and then pulled on his glasses. He'd slept in his clothes. Huh.

He grunted as he pushed himself off the bed, his shoulders and thighs were pleasantly sore from his workout the night before. Briefly, he considered sneaking out and doing it again. And then he opened the bedroom door. Ron and Hermione were in the other room, sitting at the small round table, sharing the _Prophet_ and a carafe of coffee. Harry's stomach grumbled, protesting its neglect.

"Oi!" Ron said with a smile. "He lives!"

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said. "Fancy some coffee?"

Harry plopped down at the table with them. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione poured Harry some coffee in the mug already waiting for him. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "We told you we were coming with you, and we meant it."

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged. "You're stuck with us, mate."

Crookshanks was curled up and dozing on the couch, on top of a pillow and crumpled blanket there. Scattered about were dozens of books, some already opened and marked with pieces of parchment and quills. It looked as if they'd started to research without him.

"When did you get here?" Harry asked. "Did either of you get any sleep at all?" Ron went red…and he did look a little tired. Harry glanced back at the couch. It was a very small couch. "Did you both sleep on there? Together?" They sputtered. Harry raised his brows. "Did you?"

"Well, no, of course not," Hermione said, going red in the face herself.

"Yes," Ron said, glaring at Hermione. "We did."

"Ron!" She looked stricken. "That makes it sound as if… as if something happened. Nothing happened, Harry. We were reading and we fell asleep."

Ron grumbled, and took a long sip of his coffee. Harry thought he caught a muttered, "…don't have to look so scandalized," but he wasn't sure.

Hermione went back to fussing with the_ Prophet_, and Harry's stomach rumbled uncomfortably. Maybe he could nick something down in the Dursleys' kitchen. What time was it, anyway? Late enough for the paper to have been delivered. The moving picture on the front page was of a Dark Mark hanging over a small, burning cottage.

Hermione slammed the page down and glared at Ron. "If you wanted something to happen, why did you make such a fuss about sharing a blanket?"

"I didn't make a fuss!" Ron insisted.

"_'Oh, well, my legs are long, I get cold,'_" she mocked. "Honestly, Ron, was that the best you could come up with?"

"My legs _are_ long!"

"As if you could get cold on a summer night! You're like a bloody furnace!" she snapped.

"Did you just…did she just swear?" Ron asked, and a stunned grin spread across his face.

"Well, you needn't come up with any more excuses. Nothing happened, because nothing's ever going to happen!" Ron's face dropped at her finality. She picked up the _Prophet_ again and scanned the page while she finished with, "We're best friends, the three of us. End of."

It took Ron a moment to respond, and when he did, it was just to stare lost at the pages of the_ Prophet_ he had in front of him. He was all red and blotchy and he looked as if he wanted to vomit.

Harry wasn't sure what had just happened. Had they broken up? Were they ever together? At the funeral…Harry didn't want to think about it. His stomach clenched. And then gurgled.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Hermione huffed and slammed her _Daily Prophet_ down again. This time her glare was directed at Harry. "Can't you control that thing?"

"What?" Harry asked, and placed a defensive hand over his belly. "I'm hungry."

"And I suppose you want me to fetch you something to eat? Fine. I'm hungry, too."

She left without so much as a glance in Ron's direction.

"Reckon she'll bring enough for all of us?" he asked. Harry doubted it. She'd been driven to swearing. Ron dropped his elbows to the table and plopped his face into his hands. "She's mental."

"She's angry," Harry corrected.

"You reckon?" Ron snapped. "Harry Potter, Master of Deduction."

Harry didn't like where this was going. Ron surly was a bloke asking for a row. "I'm going to shower," Harry said, a thumb pointing to the small bathroom.

"How was I supposed to know that she'd go nutters over a blanket?" Ron cried. "I mean, it's a blanket! And she said she didn't need it – said it was too warm in here."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Er, Ron? Is Hermione your girlfriend?"

"What?" Ron looked hurt. "Haven't you been paying attention? '_Just friends_, ' she said. '_End of!_ ' As if I'd have her! She'd be damn lucky if I'd have her! '_Just friends_' – I'll show her just friends!" Harry didn't know what that meant, but Ron's vehemence didn't sound good.

"It's just…Hermione…" Ron began again, anger suddenly gone, replaced with melancholy. "Oh, bloody hell. She's never going to go out with me now."

It was an odd sort of admission wrapped in defeat, and Harry's stomach clenched again. Why'd he have to say it out loud? Of course, Harry knew Ron wanted to date Hermione – it wasn't like his best mate was subtle or anything. Hearing the words, though, made it more real. Ron and Hermione. Hermione and Ron.

"You've asked her, then?" Harry said carefully.

"Asked her? I can't just ask her! She's _Hermione_! She's my best friend! I can't just ask my best friend to go out with me, now can I?"

"If you're not going to ask her, then how do you reckon it will ever happen?"

"Don't confuse me with logic!"

"You can't just wave a wand and make her your girlfriend, you know. It doesn't happen by magic. You have to ask. Or…maybe you could just kiss her. That's how it happened with me and Ginny."

Ron shook his head. "She already said nothing would happen, like it would be the worst thing in the world if _something were to happen_. Like I'm disgusting or something. I'm not disgusting! Am I? Oh, bloody hell! I'm disgusting!"

"Who's disgusting?" A woman's deep voice called from outside the tent, then a pretty witch with twinkling eyes and spiky, bubblegum pink hair poked her head inside. "Yeah, Charlie said you'd set something up – wicked! He was right, I wouldn't appreciate Hermione's cleverness it if I didn't see it for myself. Wotcher Harry. Ron."

Tonks crawled in the tent and looked around. "Not bad, not bad," she said. "So, then, who's disgusting?"

Ron and Harry exchanged looks, and then Ron swallowed. "Me, I reckon. It's my ginger hair. Or…" His eyes went wide, and he looked at Harry. "It's because I've not got any money, isn't it?"

"Bullocks," Harry said. "You know Hermione doesn't give a nod about that."

"Oh, who cares? It's hopeless!" Ron wailed, and he threw up his arms. "How was I supposed to know that she'd get all mental over a blanket? It was like an oven in here, and she said she was hot. Said she didn't need the blanket, so why would she…?"

"You took the blanket," Harry said, shaking his head.

"What?" Ron said defensively. "It's your fault! You were all up in your I-hate-life bender, so Hermione and I thought to leave you alone for a bit, let you sleep it off, you know? But that left us with the one blanket my mum sent along. One blanket and one pillow between us. And a couch that's not even long enough for Hermione to lie down comfortably on! So what did I do? Took the blanket and the floor! Because I'm a gentleman. She insisted we share, but I said-"

"Wait," Tonks cut him off, and pinned him with an incredulous stare. "Hold it. Let me get this straight. You're telling me that the bird you fancy the pants off wanted to spend the night with you on that small, ickle couch, and you turned her down?"

"I'm a gentleman!" Ron said proudly.

"You didn't have to _do_ anything, you know. You could've shared." Harry shook his head.

"Ron," Tonks said, sliding into the chair beside him. "No judgments here, but are you a poof?

"I'm not a poof!" Ron said. "How can I be a poof if I fancy a girl?"

"It could happen," Tonks said, resting her chin in hand, and her elbow on the table. She studied Ron, and he began to squirm. "I've never heard of a hetero teen bloke turning down a good snog on the couch before, whether he fancies the girl or not."

"Snog? No, you've got it all wrong. This is Hermione. She doesn't think like that."

"She doesn't?" Tonks asked, pink brows raised. "You're sure?"

"Of course she doesn't. She's far too practical. She doesn't think about those things."

With a smirk Tonks asked, "Things like what exactly?"

Ron shrugged. "Snogging and blokes and, well, _you know_. You're not a regular girl, either."

"No?"

"No," Ron said emphatically. "You're all…clever and strong, and you're a wicked good fighter. Hermione's a lot like you. Only more mental. And she's not currently talking to me, where as you are."

"So, you think I don't like a good snog?" Tonks asked. "That I don't like a bit of a shag every now and then? More now than then, believe you me!"

Ron's eyes went wide and he sputtered, "I – no, I don't...what? Shag? No one said anything about-"

"Hell, Ron! You're old enough now to think about sex all the time – everyone does at seventeen-"

"Not Hermione-"

"Especially Hermione," Tonks said succinctly. "What healthy teenage girl who spends all her time with two fit blokes wouldn't? She's thinking about shagging you every time you're thinking about shagging her."

Ron's mouth dropped open. He looked sick again. "No…not possible…"

"Oh, yeah. She's has hormones, same as you."

Ron shook his head, but Harry could see he was thinking about what Tonks was saying. What was she trying to do? She was going to ruin everything.

"Stop putting ideas in his head," Harry snapped at her. "He doesn't need to be thinking about shagging anyone! He's right. This is Hermione you're on about!"

"Bloody hell, Harry," Tonks grumbled. "Not you, too!" Ron's eyes shot to him, and Harry was shocked to see accusation in them.

"I do _not _fancy Hermione!"

"No, of course he doesn't," Ron dismissed a little too easily for Harry's ego. "And he's right. Hermione didn't want to snog; she was just being practical again."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "So, you're telling me that seventeen year-old Hermione's never snogged a bloke before?"

Ron went red and glared at his knees. Harry didn't dare say a thing.

"Who was he, then?" Tonks playfully asked. "Was he lovely and clever?"

"No!" Ron blurted out. "He was Viktor Krum, who's neither lovely nor clever!"

Tonks' eyes went wide, and then she burst into laughter. "I was fishing on that – Viktor Krum? Honestly? The Seeker? Bravo, Hermione! He is quite fit, isn't he?"

"No! He is not! He's a big lump, is what he is!" Ron insisted. "He's…he's…"

"Oh, go on," Tonks said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I bet you have his autograph."

Ron's mouth dropped open, and his blush went two shades darker.

"No!" Tonks said, and then fell into laughter again. "No, honestly? You're having me on, now! Ron, you're too much! You've got his autograph? Oh, Ron, tell me that's not why you fancy Hermione."

"You shut up about it," Ron snapped. "It's not a laugh."

"Oh, but it is! Ron, how can you think Hermione wanted anything but a good snog last night? She's a clever girl. She knows what could happen between a bloke and a bird on a couch in the middle of the night. She was thinking it, and you weren't. She's probably thinking it right now."

"Now?" Ron asked. "You reckon she's thinking about me right now?"

"Oh, honestly, Ron! What girl wouldn't?"

* * *

Hermione returned with breakfast and more coffee by half past lunch. Tonks was long gone by then and Harry was so hungry he had three sausages with his crumpet. Ron spent the meal stealing glances at Hermione, and giving her fleeting odd smiles that turned Harry's stomach. She didn't seem to notice. She did notice, however, that Ron only picked at his crumpet and sausage.

"All right, what's happened?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Harry told her.

"Something's wrong," Hermione insisted. "Ron's not inhaling his food." She considered them both. "Did you two have a row?

"No-" Harry began but Ron practically shouted, "Yes!" Then he gave Harry a half-apologetic, half-pleading look while Hermione turned a surprised face to Harry.

"What could you two possibly be fighting about?"

Harry looked expectantly at Ron. If Ron wanted to lie to their best friend, then he could do it himself.

"Uh…bloke stuff," Ron dismissed. "It's nothing. What are you thinking?"

"What?" Hermione asked, taken off-guard.

"Right now, what are you thinking?" he asked.

"That you've both gone a bit barmy while I was gone," she said.

"Oh," said Ron, and he deflated down into his chair.

"So, eat your sausage," Hermione said. Ron took a bite.

* * *

The next few weeks were more of the same. The three of them spent their days and nights cooped up together in the tent, avoiding the Dursleys as much as possible, and wasting – as far as Harry was concerned – a perfectly lovely summer. It was difficult for him to put out of his head the thought that he should be out hunting Horcruxes.

Most evenings Hermione looked through books, while Ron and Harry were supposed to be doing the same. She caught Ron staring at her again and again. Harry spent most evenings disgusted at how bleeding obvious Ron was.

"Oh, honestly, Ron, read your book," Hermione said more than once without looking up from hers.

"What are you thinking?" Ron asked.

"That you need to read your book," she snapped.

"Oh."

While this was going on, Harry had his latest letter from Ginny crammed inside the illustrated volume of _Five Thousand and Five All-Time Brilliant Ways to Foil Boils and Other Annoying Ailments from the Middle Ages_. He'd read the letter ten times already. A suitable response eluded him.

"_Charlie's to be Bill's ringman_," Ginny wrote. From what Ron had explained, a ringman seemed to be the wizard equivalent to a best man. Sort of. "_He came for supper last night. He and dad talked dragons for a while, and then over pudding mum asked if he had a girl. He went sort of quiet after that. It was odd. Then, I had trouble sleeping, so I went down to the kitchen for some warm milk. It had to have been close to two in the morning, Harry, but Dad and Charlie were down there arguing. I__ caught the back end of their conversation. When they saw me they shut up right quick, but Charlie said: 'If they ask I'm going to do it.' And Dad said, 'Son, you'd be giving up your life!'_

_"I know what you're thinking, but I wasn't asleep, Harry, and I didn't mishear. __When they saw me they relaxed back from each other a little, but Charlie said it, and then on his way out the door (at two in the morning!) he said: 'It's not safe anywhere anymore, Dad. Here or there doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of difference. And here I can actually help.' And then he left! And Dad watched the door for a minute, like he expected Charlie to come back and say he was just kidding or he'd changed his mind. And then, when nothing happened, Dad looked at me and said, 'He takes after your mother's family. And look what it got them.' Oh, Harry! Mum's family was all killed by Death Eaters in the last war! _

_"I'm so very worried about Charlie. He hasn't come home yet, and it's nearly tea. What could he be doing? What could possibly cost him his life? I know he's _which_ for _you know what_. Do you think it could be something to do with that?_

_"I do wish I could visit. Dad says it's out of the question, but I miss you so. Love, Ginny."_

Just as Harry finished reading, Ron shouted a frustrated: "There's nothing in here!" and threw the book across the room. It billowed the tent wall as it fell to the floor. Hermione glared at him. She'd been doing that a lot the last couple of weeks, as well. "These books are bloody useless! Bloody waste of time!"

"You didn't read the whole thing," she snapped. "What if you miss something important?"

"Important about fifteenth century Leeds? You're mental," Ron said, and rolled off the couch. He cuffed Hermione in the back of the head with his heel. She threw an apple at him. It bounced off his shoulder and landed with a thud by Harry's feet.

"Oi! You could've hit my eye with that thing!" Ron complained.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron, do you ever do anything except complain?"

"What about you?" Ron challenged. "Do _you_ ever think about anything besides books?" Hermione scowled. "Never mind. Tonks doesn't know what she's talking about."

"Tonks?"

"I said _never mind_!"

Harry looked back down at the letter in his hands. Ginny. He missed her as well.

"Petulance is never becoming, Ron. We're all here together."

"Please! You're having the time of your life, you are! There's been nothing but books for weeks! We've done it all your way, and I'm sick of it. And _you_ can Apparate! Harry and I haven't even been out of this tent in days. We're wasting a perfectly good summer." Harry had to fight a well-placed, _here-here_!

"So, leave already," Hermione snapped. "Harry and I can research without you glowering over us like a gorilla with a bellyache."

"I don't have a bellyache!"

"You're insufferable!"

"And you're mental!" Ron shouted.

"And you're…" She groped for a word.

"What? What am I? Come on! HA! Clever Hermione can't come up with a good insult? How about git? A berk? A bloody bastard? Yes, that's it! Call me a bloody bastard! Swear at me!"

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione chided.

"What? Can't swear? You did, I heard you!" Ron was red with goading, and he got more animated as he said, "Come on! You know you want to! Call me a mindless wanker! Say it! I'm a lousy, stupid, mindless wanker! I'm a damn lazy waster, and a bloody shit-for-brains!"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "That doesn't even make any sense."

"Tell me to bugger off, Hermione! Say it! Say _bloody_!"

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Me? What's wrong with you? You want to tell me off, I can see it on your face! So say it! Tell me I'm a right bleeding bastard! Say it!"

She looked at Harry, and then turned and crawled out of the tent.

Ron yelled after her. "Damn it! Hermione! You get back here! Don't you leave in the middle of a row! Bloody hell!" Ron stood with his hands on his hips and took a moment to catch his breath. "What the bloody hell was that?"

Harry didn't have an answer for him. "You lost it a bit there, mate."

"What's wrong with me?" Ron moaned. He collapsed down on to the couch and ran a hand over his face. "Where do you reckon she's gone?"

"Same place she's gone every night this week. Why do you fight with her all the time? What was this row even about?" he asked.

"Dunno," Ron muttered.

"It never seems to get you anywhere. Why do you do it?"

Ron shrugged. "I…I reckon I like it. Most of the time."

"You like rowing?"

"With her, I do," Ron admitted. "It's…well, it's sort of exciting. I mean, she's so brilliant, and, well, I reckon I like all those brains focused on me. Or…I used to. Now she just Apparates away all the bleeding time. Bloody Apparations license. I hate that she's older than me." He ventured an embarrassed glance at Harry, and went a darker shade of red. "Tell me I'm sick."

"You're not sick."

"Oh, really? When she swore the other day, did _you_ notice anything?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know," Ron said, trying now to be nonchalant. "Like your hands sweating. Or the back of your knees tingling."

"The back of your knees tingled when Hermione said 'bloody'? Seriously?"

"Er…of course not. I was just wondering if maybe yours did."

Harry had never seen Ron so red before. "No," Harry told him. And then, something else occurred to him. "Is that what happens when you fancy someone?"

Ron gave a weak nod, and played with the couch arm again. He nodded to Harry's concealed letter. "So, what did Ginny have to say? Is she living it up in her life of freedom?"

"Quidditch every afternoon," Harry confirmed.

"Lucky bint."

"You know, you don't have to sit here with me. I can see you back at the Burrow on my birthday."

"No," Ron said on a heavy sigh. "It's good."

"Really," Harry said. "I won't mind."

"It's good, I said. I think I'll go…you know, shower, before Hermione gets back."

"Thanks for announcing," Harry grumbled, and tried to focus on Ginny's letter, and what he would write back.

* * *

Two nights later history repeated and, in an effort to distract Ron until Hermione returned, Harry ordered take away.

"And this is called a pizza?" Ron asked, before taking another enormous bite of cheese, pepperoni and crust.

"Yup," Harry said around his own bite.

"Bloody brilliant," Ron said as he chewed. "Muggles are bloody brilliant."

"Ron, don't swear."

They turned to see Hermione crawl into the tent. She didn't look at them, though. She went straight to the table and served herself a slice. "Thanks for this," she said. "I'm famished."

"Have a nice walk, did you?" Ron asked. His pizza was suddenly forgotten, and he glared daggers at Hermione. "It's bloody dim of you to not tell anyone where you'd gone. What if Death Eaters-"

She dropped into one of the chairs at the table and speared Ron with a glare of her own. "I was with Charlie. I was safe enough."

For a moment or two they held each other's gaze. Ron was the first to turn away. He stuffed half a slice of pizza into his mouth at once. Satisfied, Hermione tucked into her own supper. The two of them sat there quietly eating, and still Harry could feel the tension between them build.

Ron dragged his eyes up from her crossed legs and cocked his head to one side. "Right now. This instant. What are you thinking?" he asked her.

"Shut up, Ron."

He sighed. "Another piece?" Ron asked, nodding to the pizza box. Harry shook his head. Ron helped himself to two more slices. "So…Hermione…" She looked up at him expectantly. "What did Charlie say?"

"About what? He was only there for about ten minutes. Your mother, though," she said with a smug little smile. "She was there, and we had tea."

Ron's brows furrowed. "You had tea with my mum?" he moaned. "What did _she_ say?"

"Actually, she said a lot." A smile formed at the corner of her mouth. She was going to roast him over the coals for a while, and Harry rather thought she would enjoy it.

"She and Ginny had a lot to say." This time she gave Harry a piercing glance before she took another bite. What was that supposed to mean? Had they talked about him as well? Or, maybe they hadn't talked about either of them, and she only wanted them to squirm a little. Oh, who was he kidding? Girls always talked about blokes. They giggled and gossiped like hens.

"Bet they did have a lot to say. They always have a lot to say." Ron picked at his food. "So, why the Burrow?"

"What do you mean?"

Ron shrugged. "You could've gone anywhere. Why did you go to the Burrow?"

She looked from her pizza to Harry, and then back to Ron. Then she cleared her throat. "So, what did you two do while I was away?"

"Wizard's chess," Ron said happily. "But really, Hermione. Why the Burrow?"

She bit her lip. For some reason Hermione didn't want to answer that particular question, and it didn't look like Ron was going to let it go.

"Hermione," Harry said, "Ron and I were thinking of playing another game of wizard's chess. Care to play the winner?"

She smirked. "The winner? I might at well just play Ron now, unless you're trying to tell me you've ruined his perfect record."

Ron beamed. "Oh, Harry's getting quite good," he lied. "Come on, Hermione, I'll get the board. You can be white." Ron got up and hurried into the bedroom.

Hermione leaned closer and said quietly to Harry, "Ginny says hello, by the way."

This made Harry smile.

"Mrs. Weasley says hello, as well. And then she hinted that I should be Ron's date for Bill's wedding. Everything is about Bill's wedding at the Burrow. It's nauseating. I told her that Ron hasn't asked me, and pointed out that technically, he doesn't need to. I have an invitation, same as you, so I can go even if he never asks. He's never going to ask, is he?" She bit her lip again. "I suppose I could find my own date…"

Harry was horrified. "You're not seriously thinking of asking someone else to Ron's brother's wedding? Are you mad?"

"What?" she asked indignantly. "I've been waiting for weeks for him to ask, and after today, well, I'm fairly certain he's not going to. I mean, I had thought…well, he's been staring at me a lot lately, so I thought maybe he was trying to pluck up the courage or something. Oh, why does he have to be such a…a…" She threw up her hands in frustration.

"Hermione-" Harry began, but Ron came in then with his chess set.

"I'm feeling generous tonight," Ron said happily. "I'll give you two moves to my one. How's that?" He sat at the table, pushed the pizza box aside, and began to set up the board.

Hermione seemed to have lost her appetite. She dumped her plate into the sink. "Excuse me," she said quietly and she disappeared into the loo.

"What's with her?"

"Ron," Harry said. "You've got to ask Hermione to go with you to Bill's wedding."

"Yeah," Ron snorted. He put the queen in her place.

"No, seriously. You've got to ask her. Ask her tonight."

"No way. Not going to happen, mate." Ron placed the rooks.

"Come on. You've got to! She's waiting for you-"

"Bullocks," Ron said. "'_Just friends_, ' she said. '_Nothing's going to happen_, ' she said. She said it, mate, not me. She's made her position very clear." He looked over his shoulder. "Have we got any biscuits?"

"Ron, listen to me. You've got to ask Hermione! Don't you remember fourth year at all?" It was amazing how thick Ron could be. "If you don't ask her then she'll go with someone else, you know that."

Now, Harry had his full attention. "Who else?" Ron demanded.

Hermione walked in then, and took her seat at the table. Ron stared at her, his face turning a molted red. When she noticed, she asked, "What?"

"Who the bloody hell are you taking to the wedding?" Ron asked.

Hermione's eyes went wide. "What are you…?" She turned and gave Harry a look of accusation. "What did you say?"

"Look, the both of you. None of us will survive another Yule Ball," Harry said.

"It's hardly the same thing," Ron said. "It's a wedding. We don't have to bring dates."

"Of course you have to bring a date," Hermione snapped.

"Are you bringing a date?" Ron demanded of Harry. "You asked anybody yet?"

"This isn't about me," Harry said.

"Ginny's got a date," Hermione told them. Harry's stomach clenched. "She's asked Neville."

"Well," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "That's hardly a date, is it? It's just Neville. They're friends."

Harry saw his opening. "Good friends," he agreed. "Neville's fought with us, was with us in the D.A. And they went to the Yule Ball together. They're good friends. There's nothing wrong with taking a good friend to a wedding as a date, is there?"

Ron glanced at Hermione from the corner of his eye. He snorted a little. She just sat there with her arms crossed defiantly, chewing the inside of her cheek.

Finally Ron said, "Well, how about it, then. You said nothing more than friends. But I reckon if Ginny can ask Neville…"

"You said you get _cold_," Hermione said grumpily. And then she tilted her head and considered Ron. "If we go together, will you dance with me?"

Ron looked horrified. "No!"

"Yes," Harry insisted.

"No!" Ron snapped.

"Yes!" Harry said.

"You go with her, then!" Ron practically shouted, and he shoved the chessboard so hard the pieces staggered around.

"Yes, I'll go with Harry," Hermione said.

"What? Wait," Harry choked. What had just happened?

"Fine!" Ron said, and he got up from the table and stormed into the bedroom.

"Ron, wait! No! You're supposed to ask Hermione! You stupid…bloody wanker," Harry finished under his breath. Hermione smirked, but Harry noticed she didn't tell him not to swear.

"Never mind, Harry," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "You and I will go together, and we'll have a good time."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. Had she lost control of her senses? "Ron will be there, you know. It's his brother's wedding."

"So?" she asked shrugging.

"So, he's my best mate!"

Her eyes narrowed. "And what am I?"

"Well, obviously you're my best mate, too, but he's going to be sitting there like he was back in fourth year, all miserable and angry, and there's going to be a big row because there always is when one of you is upset, and…"

"And?"

Harry lowered his brows. Wasn't that enough? "And you did say that nothing could happen between you besides friendship. You're raw because he won't ask you to go, but really, why would he when you said you just want to be friends? _End of_."

Her face darkened. "I said that, didn't I? But he said-"

"It doesn't matter! Don't you see? He wants to go with you, and you want to go with him!"

She raised a defiant chin and tucked her arms tighter around herself. "No, he doesn't. If he did, he would've asked me. And I don't either. Not anymore. I'm going with you, so he can just sit there and be miserable for all I care."

"Hermione, no," he said, almost pleading.

"It's no use, Harry. Let it alone."

At a loss, he shook his head. "Can't you just-"

"No, Harry, I can't. Now, please, let's drop it." Her voice wavered a little, her eyes glistening. And once again Harry felt like the prat he was.

"All right," he sighed. He glanced over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door. Ron would be fuming for hours, and as Harry would now be Hermione's date at the wedding he was more than likely going to bare the brunt of that anger. Harry sighed again.

"Fine. But, maybe we could play a game or two of chess?" How long would it take Ron to fall asleep? "Or maybe three?"

They were halfway through their fifth game when Ron slammed the bedroom door open. He was red and his blue eyes darted between Harry and Hermione. From the doorway he said, "I'll dance with you, all right? Now will you go with me?"

Hermione, who had been half-dozing with her head propped in her hand, sat upright in her chair. She looked from Ron to Harry, and then back at Ron again. "Well, I don't know-"

"She'll go," Harry said quickly, and he jumped up from the table before Hermione could think of another objection. "Great! I'm knackered. Come on, Ron, let's get some sleep." He practically dragged Ron back into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.

"Thank Merlin!" Harry said, and he collapsed on his bed. "I thought you'd never come to your senses!"

Ron sat down on the other bed, but he didn't look at all happy. "Sorry, mate," he mumbled. "What are you going to do now?"

"'Bout what?" Harry asked.

"Well, who will you take to the wedding?"

"You can't be serious." But Ron's long face, his stooped posture, his guilty expression told Harry he was. "Ron, I'm not going to take anyone to Bill's wedding. I'm not going to have a date."

"What? But…but you have to! I'm taking Hermione-"

"No one is going to expect me to show up with a date. And anyway, after breaking up with Ginny, it would just be poor form to bring a girl. I'm going because he's your brother and this wedding is important to your parents." It would probably kill Harry to see Ginny again and not be able to touch her…or be touched by her. But then again, it would probably make leaving again that much easier.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. If mum saw you with another girl, it might be awkward. I mean, she adores you – my whole family does – but Ginny is the baby, and she's the only girl."

"Exactly," Harry said.

Ron flopped back on the bed. "Why does it have to be so bloody hard? It can't be like this for everyone, or no one would ever have dates."

"Maybe it's just us," Harry suggested.

"Lucky us."

* * *

The tent took a full day to pack. Boxes of clothes and books and magazines, of games and things that had made the tent home for the past month stood piled by the door all neatly labeled for their destination, thanks to Hermione. Hedwig and Pig had been sent on ahead, and Crookshanks sat curled in his basket on top of the boxes. He and half the boxes were to be magically transported by Parcelkey to the Burrow once Hermione arrived there and was settled; the rest were going to her parents' attic for storage.

"Harry, we want to stay." Hermione gave him an imploring look while she worried her hands. "We'll stay with you."

"It's just another hour," Harry assured her. "I need to do this alone."

He'd tried to help them understand that he needed to leave Privet Drive on his own; that he'd been left on the doorstep alone and that's how he was going to leave this wretched place. Ron seemed to be all right with going to the Burrow ahead of him, but Hermione was dragging her feet.

"But what if-" she began for the hundredth time.

"Nothing's going to happen," Harry assured her. "I'm just going to sit here for another hour, wait for midnight, and then fly to the Burrow. No big deal."

"Come on, Hermione," Ron said quietly, inching toward the door. "Let's go. Oi, Hermione, what are you thinking now?"

"Really, I'll be fine. Just go. I'll see you soon." Harry stood there while she debated with herself, and then caught her as she launched herself at him. She hugged him tight.

"Oh, please be careful, Harry," she whispered in his ear. "Take care, won't you, while you're flying? Don't take any unnecessary risks. Promise me!"

"I promise," he told her.

When they left it was just Harry and the boxes. He dropped down on the couch and tried to clear his head. The wedding was a week away, and that meant a week living under the same small roof as Ginny. Harry sighed. He knew she was as anxious to see him as he was her. It would be difficult not to be able to kiss her. He missed her touch. It was hard to believe it, but even with Ron and Hermione underfoot for the last month, Harry had been lonely without her.

He wished now he hadn't accepted the invitation to the wedding. What was the sense in putting off the inevitable? Why torture himself with more wonderful moments of family that will never be his? He knew he shouldn't be so keen on seeing Ginny again. It would be even harder to say good-bye to her the next time. He would be seventeen in an hour – make that forty seven minutes – and if he hadn't told Mrs. Weasley that he would go to the wedding, then he'd be leaving tonight to search for the Horcruxes instead of going to the Burrow. His old promises would be honored at midnight. He would be an adult.

That part was odd. Harry had never really thought he'd make it this far. How many times had he faced Voldemort already? How many opportunities had the Death Eaters had to finish him off? And still, Harry had scraped by and made it to majority intact and healthy. He'd made it to seventeen. Cedric had been seventeen when he was murdered. It seemed both old and young. Cedric would've been twenty this year.

Twenty years old. Harry's own parents had probably been close to that age when they were married – they certainly couldn't have been much older. Harry had done the math once, a long time ago. He knew when they'd been Head Boy and Girl at Hogwarts, and was able to extrapolate forward and back from that.

If Hogwarts did open in the autumn, Hermione would most certainly be named Head Girl. Would he have been Head Boy? Would his father have wanted him to be? Would he have been disappointed if Harry hadn't been chosen? And who would be Head Boy if not Harry? Ron? Possible, Harry thought, but not terribly likely. Maybe Dean Thomas. Everyone seemed to like him. Ginny had liked him well enough.

Harry sighed. It hadn't taken him long to think of Ginny again. It would be even harder with her there all the time. How would he make it through the next week? A whole week of wanting to kiss her, and run from her at the same time. A week of constantly being reminded that he was never supposed to be really happy, and of what he would be missing. Maybe _that_ was why Dumbledore had insisted he live with his aunt and uncle when surely any number of wizarding families would've fallen all over themselves to raise _t__he _Harry Potter up as one of their own. His life would've been so very different without Dudley in it, without having to live under the stairs, without the constant fear of criticism and punishment and ridicule.

He hated this place, hated everything that it was and represented. He hated the smell of cleaner in the air, and the carpet on the stair, and the desperate need to impress the neighbors. He wouldn't miss any of it at all. Or any of them.

And still…Aunt Petunia was a living connection to his parents, and he had so very few of them left. Just Lupin, really, though McGonagall knew his mum and dad, he supposed. Had Hagrid? He couldn't remember, but he thought that Hagrid might've mentioned Harry had his mother's eyes. Actually, why hadn't Harry asked Hagrid about his parents? When he came to collect the eleven-year-old Harry, he'd said he hadn't seen him since he was a baby – which meant that Hagrid _had_ seen him as a baby. Maybe Hagrid knew something, something about his parents that would help in his quest now. Though he couldn't think what that might be. Peter Pettigrew had been their Secret Keeper, so Hagrid wouldn't have known where they were hiding, which meant that he wouldn't have known where Godric's Hollow was. Or would he?

Harry wondered. Why wasn't it in any of the books? What the hell was so bloody special about Godric's Hollow?

Lupin had shared a lot about his parents with him, and Sirius, too, but neither of them talked much about the darker things that might actually be of some use now. Harry was no longer a child, no longer in need of coddling. Those days were dead. Now he needed answers.

The boxes disappeared with a soft pop. Harry looked down at his watch. Twenty-three minutes and everything would change. It wasn't just the protections of his mother's sacrifice that would fall away, but also the comforts of youth. Days of playing Quidditch and struggling through homework with his best mates before the roaring Gryffindor fireplace would be forever lost to him. Harry smiled, remembering the nights he and Ron had invented their own absurd, tragic, repeated demises for Divination. They'd been funny at the time, and he and Ron had had a good laugh over it all.

He missed laughing with Ron. They hadn't had a good laugh in so very long. When was the last time he'd felt light-hearted? It wasn't really a question – Harry knew exactly when it had been. The night he'd gotten out of detention with that traitor Snape, and rushed to the Common Room to find a celebration underway. Gryffindor had won at Quidditch, and Ginny had caught the Snitch. She was so lovely and so very happy, and she ran at him and Harry had lost his mind and wrapped his arms tight around her, and kissed her. Their first kiss. Never had he felt so very good, like he could fly without a broom. It was the best moment of his life.

Magic, he missed her.

And the familiar anxiety twisted his stomach again. She would be there tonight. What would he do when he saw her? What would she do? Would they sneak off for a quick snog? He shouldn't be thinking about things like that. He'd broken up with her. Was she thinking about it, too?

Ten minutes to go. It was time, he decided. Harry crawled out of the tent and stood near the door of his Muggle room. He cast the Pack Charm, and the tent snapped its own ropes, folded and tied itself into a neat bundle, and then slipped into its satchel at Harry's feet. He waved his wand at the bed, desk and closet all piled in the corner, and they flew back to their original places; the bed neatly made, and the desk clean and clear of clutter. All the posters and drawings had been removed from the room, all Harry's personal belongings were either now at the Burrow or had been tossed in the rubbish bin days before. There was nothing in this room that suggested that it had even been occupied at all.

It was how it was supposed to be.

Harry picked up the tent bag and slipped his arm and head through the shoulder strap. He collected his Firebolt from the corner and headed out, closing the door behind him.

Uncle Vernon and Dudley were asleep. He could hear their rumbling snores like a grotesque duet that shook the floor. Harry didn't bother to creep down the stairs. The light was on in the living room, and Harry was surprised to see his aunt still fully dressed, sitting on the couch, a glass of something dark in her hand. She looked at him, but didn't say anything, and Harry returned the favor.

His watch said four minutes.

He wondered if something was going to happen, if he would feel the magical protections melt away, or whether there would be a boom or a prickling. He hoped whatever was going to happen wouldn't wake his uncle and cousin.

And then another thought struck him – would Voldemort know? Would he be able to tell the instant Harry's shield was lifted? Would he send his Death Eaters straight away to get him? Best not to dawdle, Harry decided. He wasn't so much worried that they'd get him as perhaps they'd appear and attack the Muggles. Harry hated his aunt and her family, but he didn't want to see them dead…and certainly not by Death Eater hands. He should've thought of this earlier, really. He should've made sure there was someone else here to guard Privet Drive, at least until it was clear that no attacks would be made.

Maybe he should stay. Maybe he should wait until he was sure they would be safe? Or would that make them a bigger target? Would his presence there, once the ward was lifted, create a bull's-eye on the house?

Aunt Petunia took a long drink. Her eyes never left Harry.

Right, then. He would go, and send Moody or someone back to check on things. Everything would be fine, he told himself. The anxiety and late hour made him a little paranoid, was all. He would go to the Burrow and never look back. They would be better off without him in their lives, just as he would be better off without them.

He watched the seconds tick down on his wrist. This was the moment he'd waited his whole life for: the moment of freedom. There should be fireworks or something, some sort of celebration to mark the seconds as three…two…one…

Midnight.

Nothing happened. His aunt still sat there looking at him, and his uncle and cousin still snored away. No fireworks. No celebration. No big boom. No attack. Well, good, then, he decided. It was as it ought to be.

He slipped out into the warm night and looked up to see the few stars that showed in the night sky. There would be far more once he got a bit father away.

Harry mounted his broom, looked to the west, and kicked off.


	4. Chapter 3 Wedding at the Burrow

Part 1 – Summer

Chapter 3 – Wedding at the Burrow

He walked up the path to the Burrow feeling every footfall. It hadn't been an unusually long flight from Surrey, and still Harry's shoulders ached, his legs felt like jelly. He'd pushed his Firebolt as hard as it would go initially, but then once he hit Basingstoke, the bitterly cold wind in his face didn't feel quite as freeing as it once had, and the altitude had begun to bother him. Harry had been away for too long, cooped up and inactive. He'd have to do something about that.

But not now. Now he had to go in and face his friends. The Burrow's downstairs lights glowed a happy gold in the windows, and music drifted out to greet him. Harry hadn't expected them to be up waiting for him. He'd hoped to slip in silently the way he'd slipped away from Privet Drive, and make his way up to Ron's room on the fifth landing. The house would be full because of the upcoming wedding, but Mrs. Weasley had assured him that he would always have a bed at the Burrow – even if it meant continuing to bunk with Ron.

Harry glared down at his watch. It was nearly three in the morning! Why weren't they asleep? He shifted the bag on his shoulder and forced himself through the kitchen door.

Charlie and Mr. Weasley sat at the kitchen table, a bottle of wine between them and two empty glasses. They smiled and welcomed him, and Mr. Weasley produced another glass and pressed it into his hand.

"Welcome, my boy," he happily said. "Join us!"

Hermione rushed over next, threw her arms around Harry and gave an easy laugh. "You've made it!" She had begun to help him with the tent bag when Ron came over and handed him a butter beer.

"Any problems?" Ron asked. He looked pointedly at Harry's scar.

Harry shook his head.

Mrs. Weasley hurried over as well, and pushed a plate of food at Harry, but he already had his hands full of drinks and Hermione was tugging the satchel strap off his arm, and just then Fred and George began to sing "For He's A Jolly Good Fellow!" Charlie laughed at Harry's predicament, as did Lupin who came in from the living room, following a brightly colored Tonks in a very short skirt.

"Wotcher, Harry!" she called over the din, and Lupin raised his glass at Harry.

The party carried on around him, but Harry lost track of it the moment Ginny stepped off the stairs. She looked as lovely as Harry had ever seen her in her flowered skirt and green top. Her hair was down and straight, and in the warm glow of the kitchen, it looked as rich as polished copper. Her face lit up when she saw him, and she flew into his arms. He chuckled a little and, as the drinks were taken from him, he hugged her back.

"I thought you'd never get here," she said in his ear. "Happy birthday, Harry."

With her beaming at him, it was quickly turning into the happiest of his life.

* * *

The sun was rising by the time the party disbanded, and Harry was able to steal away to bed. Ron followed staggering, and collapsed down on his mattress with a relieved groan. He'd had more than his share of plum wine, and would, as Hermione flatly predicted, most likely pay for it in the morning. As exhausted as Harry was from the flight over, and the food and drink and dancing, he couldn't slow his mind enough to relax.

"I'm going to take a shower," Harry muttered. Ron softly snored in response. With a smirk, Harry headed down the stairs and ran into Hermione two landings below.

"Oh, Harry," she said as she stepped out of Ginny's room. "Is everything all right?"

"I was just going to shower," he told her. She was carrying her toilet bag, and was probably going to do the same thing. "You can go first, if you like."

"Thanks. I'll just brush my teeth. I won't be long."

Ginny's door was decorated with large paper flowers that glittered and swayed as if by magical breeze. Her name was scrawled across one of the yellow petals in a childish version of her now perfect penmanship.

"You can go in." Harry had been caught staring at Ginny's door. "She's not asleep."

"I don't want to bother her."

"Yes, you do," Hermione told him, and she turned to go down to the loo. "Bother her. I think I might take a long, long shower after all. It might be hours…" She smirked over her shoulder at him.

"Tart," Harry playfully jabbed, but his mind was already on Ginny. Did he knock? Well, of course he should knock rather than barge right in. He rolled his eyes and gave the door a light rap. Silence followed. Perhaps she was asleep after all. He told himself that he should turn around and go back up to Ron's room. He should try to get some sleep. And still, his feet didn't move.

The door opened, and Ginny stood staring at him. "Harry?"

"Hi," he said. It was the only thing he could think of.

"Hi," she returned.

He nodded.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him far enough into her room to close the door. The door should remain open, he knew, but he couldn't seem to fight her. At that moment in time, tired and emotionally raw, he didn't care that he'd broken things off with her, or why. She looked into his face, into his eyes, and in the dim, warm light of the rising sun she looked like a bronze and alabaster goddess. He leaned into her, and she to him, and their mouths met in a tentative kiss. Her lips were warm and soft as they brushed against his; the contact was intoxicating. Her hands slipped up over his chest and Harry thought he might die from pleasure. He always loved the way she touched him. No one had ever touched him like Ginny did. Her fingers smoothed over the neck of his t-shirt, up the skin of his throat and the day's worth of patchy stubble there. They twined through the unruly hair at the back of his head. Her nails scratched across his scalp. When he groaned, she deepened the kiss. Her tongue stretched against his, her body pressed tight, and he found his own arms curling around her to pull her closer.

Now it was her turn to moan, and his body responded in an immediate way; blood surged, heart hammered. Things were getting a little out of hand, Harry thought, and then he lost all ability for conscious thought.

His tongue was in her mouth, his hands on her hips, grinding her closer, and then suddenly they were on the floor, and he was on top of her and she felt so bleeding good. Her hands were under his shirt, her nails over his skin, her legs around his thighs, and oh Merlin, her mouth was on his throat. He kissed her bare shoulder, tasted her skin. Braced with one arm, Harry reached down and pushed her nightgown up. Her belly was so smooth, her ribs, her breast…

Her hands were in the back of his jeans, and she reached down and squeezed his bum, and Harry was lost. He bucked her into the floorboard, rutted and groaned against her. His mouth sought hers, but he only managed her cheek, her ear, and he sucked.

"_Get off of her__!_"

Suddenly, Harry was slammed into the ceiling. He looked down at Ginny who lay shocked beneath him on the floor. She scrambled up, pulled her gown down over her knickers. "Charlie!" she screamed. "Let him go!"

"It's Harry? Oh. I thought someone was attacking you."

"Haven't you ever seen anyone snog before? Put him down this instant!" She was dark with blush in the morning light; her hair was messed, her lips swollen.

"Right," Charlie said, and he flicked his wrist. Harry landed hard on the floor. "Your technique could use some work."

"You shut up about him! And get out!"

Slowly Harry's brain began to work again, and the seriousness of what had just happened began to filter through. "Oh, magic…oh, Merlin…" He'd snogged Ginny, and he'd been about to do more.

"No, Harry, it's all right," she said. She tugged his arm and helped him up. She would expect things from him now; things he wasn't able to give.

"No," he moaned. Just her touch on his arm was enough to make him want to give her things, to make her promises he knew he couldn't keep. He jerked his arm away. He couldn't let his mind cloud over again. He had to stay in control. He broke it off with her for a reason, and that reason still existed. His life was too dangerous, and he was meant to be alone.

But her expression went from concern to hurt, and Harry found himself reaching out to her despite himself. "I'm sorry," he said, and his fingers brushed her shoulder. "Ginny…" She looked up at him, and his heart melted inside his chest.

"All right, you two. Enough." Charlie pulled Harry back and out of the room. "Upstairs with you," he said to Harry. "And you. Put some clothes on. Don't you have flannels or something?"

"What?" Ginny cried. "It's summer!"

Charlie turned Harry and pushed him to the stairs. "I want a word with you in the morning," Charlie said. Harry refrained from reminding him that it was morning. "Until then, you stay away from my sister."

Ron was on his back, snoring when Harry dropped down on to the rollaway bed. His body was still hard and humming, and he tried to understand what had come over him down there. Had Ginny cast a spell on him? No, not his Ginny. Harry had just gone mental. When she touched him that last time it was like a flame was struck, and something deep within came alive.

* * *

Harry's shoulder was nudged, and he blinked awake. Ron stood over him with something in his hand. "Wha'?" Harry felt for his glasses on the small shelf over the bed and shoved them on his face. It was Charlie, not Ron, holding a plate.

"You missed tea," Charlie said. "Mum sent this up."

"Oh." Harry pushed himself up, bunching the blankets protectively over his lap. "Er…thanks." He took the offered plate, and Charlie dropped down on the other bed. He crossed his legs, and looked expectantly at Harry.

"So," said Charlie. "Let's talk. Wizard to wizard."

"Oh, Merlin."

Charlie chuckled. "It's not like that." He nodded to the plate. "Eat up. We're going to play some Quidditch later and while I'm told you're quite good, so am I. You'll need all the strength Mum's steak pie can give you."

Harry knew Charlie wasn't there to talk about Quidditch, or to deliver a meal. This was about Ginny, and what Harry was doing to her last night - this morning. Harry knew he shouldn't have kissed her again. He never should've left Ron's room. Hell, he should've gone straight from the Dursleys and never come to the Burrow at all. Wasn't he thinking that very thing last night?

But he hadn't. He'd snogged Ginny on the floor of her bedroom, and he'd gotten caught with his hand up her gown. Best to come clean, he decided. Be honest and lay it all out on the table. Maybe Charlie would send him away. Or, maybe he'd tell Mrs. Weasley who would do it for him. No matter how much affection Mrs. Weasley had for him, she was fiercely loyal to her family – and fiercely protective.

"I don't know what happened," Harry admitted. He set the plate on the bed, and met Charlie's level gaze. "It won't happen again."

Charlie snorted. "There are some things you need to know about the Weasleys, Harry. The first is, we're a randy bunch – and I suspect our little Ginny is no exception there. Second, once we fall for someone, that's it. For better or worse we're faithful to that love. More faithful than we intend to be in some cases…" His gaze lowered.

"Well, Ginny hasn't fallen for me," Harry told him. "We're not even dating anymore."

Charlie's brows rose. "You're not? Bloody hell! You can't sneak into her room and throw yourself on her like that if you're not going to even date her! Look, Harry, there's an unspoken code of honor among wizards-"

"I know!" Harry cried. "I didn't mean for it to happen. It's just-" He broke off, remembering who he was talking to.

"Just what?"

"Never mind."

"Look, Ginny was a baby when I left to go to Hogwarts. I absolutely adore her, but she and I don't have the relationship that she and Ron have. I've no doubt that she's not the angel everyone seems to think she should be just because she's the youngest, or because she's a girl. Ginny's very much a Weasley. I've no illusions about that."

"Good for you, then. But that doesn't mean I want to talk to you about her."

Charlie sighed and studied Harry for a moment. "I get it, you know. You think about her all the time." Charlie wasn't asking a question, but Harry nodded anyway. "When you touch her it's like your brain shuts off." Again, Harry nodded. Charlie smiled. "I know the feeling, mate."

This time Harry shook his head. "I think…is there any Veela in your family?"

Charlie gave a belly laugh. "That bad, huh?"

But Harry was serious. When he was alone with Ginny in her room it was as if something had come over him, and while he knew Ginny would never slip him a love potion, he couldn't help but wonder.

"Yes, it does feel like that, doesn't it?" Charlie's smile was contagious, and Harry was once again struck by how agreeable he was. "And I've got news for you, Harry: it never ends. Once they slip under your skin you're infected for life."

"Infected. It does feel like a sickness," Harry agreed. "It wasn't always like this with us, though. Me and Ginny, I mean. Not at the beginning."

"No, no. It's been my experience that her absence flames the fire, so to speak. When she's with you for any length of time the mania eases a bit. That's why you want her around. With regular snogging and a good…well…"

Charlie cleared his throat, and his expression went serious. A chill went through Harry. Serious just didn't fit on Charlie's face. It made him angular. Menacing.

"Do we need to have a chat about birth control? I know Ginny's been briefed, but-"

"No!" Harry cried. "I told you, we're broken up!"

"You were broken up last night on the floor of her bedroom, were you? Maybe we should go over the basics anyway, just in case-"

"I've got it," Harry hastily assured. "Fred and George, you know."

"Oh, shit," Charlie said. "Now I know we need to talk. But we should probably include Ron, as well. I don't fancy having to have that particular conversation twice and there's no telling what kind of nonsense they've filled his head with."

"Right. We'll wait for Ron," Harry said, trying to force the panic back a bit.

Charlie pointed a finger at Harry. "You know The Charm doesn't always work the way you think it's going to, don't you? That's why people don't use it. Don't go relying on it!"

"I won't!" Harry promised.

"All right, then." Charlie relaxed back, which allowed Harry to do the same. "So why, then, did you break it off with her? And don't look at me like that. She never would've broken it off with you and then snogged you like that. Ginny's like our mum in that she's not one for head games."

"It's not a head game," Harry insisted. "I can't date her. Not anymore. In a week…" Harry thought better of letting his plans spill. Charlie might be the Order's Secret Keeper, but he wasn't Harry's. "It's going to be dangerous for me, probably for the rest of my life. Last night was…insane, I know. Coming here was probably a mistake."

"Probably," Charlie said. Harry hadn't expected him to agree, and his face must've showed his surprise because Charlie added: "Ginny is nothing if not tenacious. If you really don't have any intention of dating her, and you're that mad for her…."

He gazed over Harry's shoulder to a memory. "It's a hard thing to love a witch you can't have, and even harder to love one you know you shouldn't. But, before you make a right mess of it all and push her so far away she'll never come back, consider everything, Harry. Because when she's gone, she's gone. And even when you think you're doing it for her own good…well…it's hardly worth saving the world if you've got no one to share it with, now is it? If she's with some other bloke…"

"What? What other bloke?" Harry asked. "Who are we talking about? Ginny or…." Charlie wasn't talking about Ginny at all. "Who was she?"

"No one."

"She had to have been someone special."

"Hypothetically speaking, if she were someone special, it's pretty clear she's not here anymore, isn't it? Let's move on to your problem." Charlie refocused on Harry. "So, what are you going to do? You're here through the wedding, yes?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I could try to avoid Ginny, I suppose."

Charlie snorted. "Yes, we both know how well that strategy worked."

"Then what do you suggest?" Harry snapped. "I can't date her."

"Then don't. But trying to avoid her in this house will just make you mental and her angry. And ultimately-"

"I know. Another last night."

"Or worse. Just…talk to her," Charlie urged. "It doesn't have to be all or nothing, you know. Things get obsessive when it's all or nothing. But Harry, she's a Weasley, for better or for worse. If things do get out of control again, for magic's sake, be discreet! Think of her honor! Use a Silencing Charm!"

* * *

Harry and Ron shared the small narrow mirror stuck to the back of Ron's bedroom door. Neither of them had much to say. They hadn't thought to get new dress robes. Why would they when they each had very respectable robes already? Harry's were left over from fourth year's Yule Ball, and Ron's from the following year when the twins had used some of the money Harry had given them to update Ron's wardrobe. But Ron had grown a foot since fifth year, and his trousers ended mid-shin; his shirt gapped at the buttons, his sleeves were so tight he could barely bend his arms. Harry had grown as well, and though not nearly as much as Ron, enough so that his trouser legs felt as if they would split the seams at his thighs, and the throat of his shirt wouldn't button closed without cutting off circulation.

"Maybe they won't notice," was Ron's brilliant solution.

"They will when I pass out from lack of blood to the brain," said Harry.

Ron tugged at his own collar. "Mum's going to have kittens over this. You know she is."

"What about Fleur?" Harry reminded him. "She's had us ironing the rose leaves all morning so they wouldn't look wrinkled as she walked past them. What do you think she's going to do when she walks past us?"

"Absolutely nothing." The door swung open and Hermione stood there with a small smile on her face and wearing the most amazing robes Harry had ever seen. "You two look dashing."

Ron wasn't able to contradict her for once. His jaw dropped and his eyes seemed stuck on the ample cleavage that was forced out of her plunging neckline. Her robes were pale green and she wore a dark ribbon tied around her neck. Odd, Harry thought, but lovely.

Hermione produced her wand and aimed at Ron. "_Engorgio tragarium_." His clothes seemed to grow around him until the hem of his trousers were almost to the tops of his shoes and his shirt cuffs nearly reached his wrists. "There's only so much stretching the spell can do, I'm afraid," she said. "But now at least you'll be comfortable."

"That's bloody brilliant!" Ron said. "I don't think even Mum knows that one!"

Hermione turned her wand on Harry, repeated the spell. "It's another variation of _Vera Verto_ . I've seen how the two of you prepare for special occasions, and I decided there were a couple of choice spells that might come in handy. Do you have any spots to be cleaned? Because I can do them, as well."

Harry's shirt grew big enough to fit properly, and he happily buttoned his collar and righted his tie. "Thanks, Hermione!"

"You're welcome," she said with a smile. "Just know that the spell's only good for a couple of hours."

"Oh, well then," Ron said. "We won't have time to dance."

"There will be plenty of time to dance," she said stiffly. "Ron."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, and dropped down on the bed. "So when is this thing supposed to happen, anyway?"

"I was sent to collect you," Hermione told him.

* * *

The orchard, where they'd played a boisterous game of Quidditch just the day before, had been turned into a rose lover's paradise. Great hedges of red, pink and white roses were everywhere, filling the air with a pleasant fragrance of flowers mixed with apples. A flowing white carpet had been conjured and charmed to hover inches above the grass. It led to a small marble archway, also overgrown with roses, where Bill and Charlie already stood.

Bill looked good. His long hair was pulled back in its usual thong, and the scars from his run-in with the werewolf Greyback a couple of months earlier had faded to pale, jagged lines across his face and neck. Tonight had been carefully chosen for the wedding because it was a new moon, so he'd be at his strongest. He'd been wounded while Greyback was still in human form, so Bill didn't transform like Lupin was forced to every month, but he did become extremely weak and disoriented during a full moon, and George said he now craved raw meat, which Harry wasn't sure he completely believed.

Beside Bill, Charlie looked his usual happy, calm self. But something struck Harry, something he hadn't noticed before. Both brothers were heavily scarred. Bill's were hard to miss, and Harry still carried some guilt over them. He'd not managed to keep Draco from letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts even though he'd had the clues to prevent it all along.

Charlie's scars, though, were easily overlooked. His natural charm and good nature distracted the eye from the large patch of uneven skin on the side of his neck, and across his forehead and brow. Now that Harry noticed, the back of Charlie's right hand was so much more pale and shiny than his left. Dragons? Or was there more to Charlie than met the eye? He was the Secret Keeper for the Order, after all, and one would think…just how involved with the Order could Charlie have been since he left Hogwarts?

"Er…Ron…" Harry turned to his best mate who stood beside him with an ever-growing crowd. Harry didn't know where all the people had come from, but now the orchard was teeming with wizards and witches standing in their finest robes. Harry wondered how many of them had come from France for the special occasion.

"Yeah," Ron said in his now usual, distracted way. His eyes were glued on Hermione who was still beside the entry fence talking with Neville. "Did you know she could do her hair like that? All piled on her head like a…how do you reckon she got those tiny flowers to stay in her hair?"

Harry shrugged. Who cared about hair? "It's Hermione." What couldn't she do? Harry tugged Ron's cuff. "Listen. When did Charlie go to Romania to study dragons?"

"Uh…right after Hogwarts, I think."

"The summer before our first year?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron said, and then thought better of it. "Er…after that. While we were in school, I think. End of our first year."

Music began to play, and everyone gasped as the bride made her appearance. Fleur was lovely, of course, but Harry's eyes were full of Ginny, who trailed fairy dust behind the bride. The ceremony itself was shorter than Harry had expected, and ended with Charlie casting a Shield Spell over the newly married couple. Everyone cheered, and several guests produced white birds from their robes, and released them as the new bride and groom made their way down the carpet again.

"Why a Shield Spell?" Harry asked Ron.

"It's there until midnight. They stay like that for six hours. It's symbolic or something-"

Hermione interrupted him. "It represents the bond of marriage. And it's not a Shield Spell. Double Shield Spells are incredibly difficult. No, it's the magical embodiment of their oath. For the next six hours they eat, dance, and greet their guests as one person. It's quite lovely, actually. Romantic."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"And then the magic goes away?" Harry asked.

"Then the ringman, in this case Charlie, casts a Transverse Spell. It shifts the outward bond inward."

"Well, that's what they say happens," Ron said. "But really, how do you know? Percy used to say there was something not quite right about Transverse Spells. What? He did! You know, you cast them, but you never really know if they took or not, or if they're supposed to do anything at all."

"I can't believe you just used Percy as a reference," Hermione quipped.

"He wasn't always a git," Ron snapped.

"You don't believe Transverse magic is real?" Hermione asked.

"It's not taught at Hogwarts, is it? I just think it's a bit wooly. You say the words, wave the wand, and are glad when nothing happens. What kind of magic is that?"

"It's about faith," Hermione said.

"It's a placebo," Ron countered. He gave her a lopsided grin. "Oi, Hermione, what are you thinking right now?"

She gave a disgusted sigh, and the three of them walked with the rest of the guests out of the grove and into the garden.

* * *

Most of the previous week had been one endless gardening chore for Harry and Ron. They de-gnomed the garden several times before Ron thought to leave Crookshanks out to patrol. Then there was the weeding, the trimming and shaping of bushes, the transforming of weeds into roses. The growth charms Neville had provided had been indispensable, and the more he hung around with them the more Harry noticed the easy way Neville had with Ginny. Harry knew they were friends, and had been since fourth year, but every once in a while Harry would find them sitting off on their own chatting quietly together. At one point they shared lemonade. From the same glass. Harry didn't know what to make of this.

Hermione and Ron took their seats, and Harry found his name neatly printed on the chair next to them. On Harry's other side Tonks and Lupin were already enjoying a glass of plum wine.

Supper was served with all the flourish of the Start of Year Feast at Hogwarts. Tea followed, along with a huge selection of finger deserts, and then the music started once more. A dance floor appeared where the broom shed used to be, and it sparkled with the reflected lights that twinkled in the trees. As the sun faded completely, magic candles were conjured, and the evening took on a dreamlike quality.

"Care to dance?" Lupin said, leaning into Tonks. Her hair was more subdued in a lighter shade of pink, and pulled back smooth in some sort of twist. She looked almost girly for once, and Harry remembered that her heart-shaped face was actually quite pretty.

"Love to," she said beaming at her date. Boyfriend. Lover. Whatever.

Suddenly there was an enormous CRACK, and everything stopped – the music and dancing – and Harry turned to see six Aurors apparate in at once, wands drawn on the tall woman with long, dark hair who arrived a split second before them. Her robes were torn, her face drenched with sweat. She was out of breath, and her arm shook as she held her wand out in defense.

Someone screamed, and Harry jumped up.

"Stop!" Charlie rushed forward. "Don't fire!"

"Charlie?" The woman's voice cracked around his name. She whirled to him, her wand still out.

Moody, already poised, fired, and the woman crumpled.

Charlie screamed, "_No__!_" as he ran to her. He slid to a stop beside her on his knees. Then, all hell broke loose. Guests gasped and cried out, and tripped over each other in their mad dash to get as far from the Aurors as possible – never mind that the single reason for the Aurors' presence, the witch, was now unconscious. The situation was contained, if there had even been one. Harry couldn't help but think that the woman seemed as surprised to find herself in the middle of a wedding party as they were to have her appear on the dance floor.

The Aurors still had their wands raised. Harry realized Tonks was one of them. Charlie curled himself over the woman to shield her from them. He touched her face. It looked as if he was trying to rouse her.

"Stand back, Weasley!" Moody ordered.

"She's not a threat!" Charlie insisted. "Bloody hell! Why did you have to stun her? She's going to be furious when she comes to."

"Charlie?" Tonks said, stepping closer. "Is it really her?"

"Help me," Charlie said. "Help me get her inside."

"I said step away, Weasley!" Moody barked.

"And I said she's no threat!" Charlie barked back. Harry had never seen anyone stand up to Moody like that. Ever. Moody's expression said that he hadn't, either.

Charlie looked back down to the woman in his arms. "But she's obviously seen some fighting tonight. Secure the grounds. Make sure we're not in for any more surprises. We've got a hundred people here tonight who need protecting, Alastor. Do you understand me?"

Moody eyed him, and then the rest of the garden without moving his head. Had Charlie just given him an order? "Roberts, Brown, Jones, you're with me," Moody commanded. "The rest of you take the orchard and move west to the pond. We'll double back and meet here. Constant vigilance!"

Once Moody and the other Aurors headed out, Charlie gathered the woman in his arms and carried her to the house. She was nearly as big as he was, but he didn't seem to notice the bulk. "Nym," he said and Tonks followed.

Ginny came up beside Harry and whispered, "Who is she?"

"Dunno. But Charlie knows her, that's for sure. And she knew Charlie." He started to follow them into the house.

Ginny grabbed his wrist. "He sent the Aurors away. Did you see that? Even Moody. Charlie gave Moody and order, _and he took it_. How much do you want to bet this is Order business? They're not going to let us just walk in there, Harry." She pulled him out of the garden and around the far side of the house. "Quickly."

There was a small circular window on the first floor landing that over looked the paddock and pond, and the newly relocated broom shed. Ginny pulled out the family broom from the shed, hiked up her robes and mounted. "Come on," she said. "Before we miss something!"

Harry threw a leg over behind her, and wrapped an arm around her middle. His body screamed in triumph as her solid backside nestled firmly between his thighs. But seconds later they climbed off the broom and through the window. They crept quietly down the stairs. The shadows hid them, but they were able to see much of what was happening in the living room. The woman lay on the couch, and Charlie knelt beside her.

"How the hell did she get in here?" Tonks demanded as she paced by the small black stove. "Mad-Eye has this place as tight as the Ministry! Tighter!"

"She had a Portkey," Charlie told him.

"No," said Tonks. "No, I arranged all the Portkeys to the Burrow myself. They're all accounted for."

Charlie shook his head. "You know her, Nym. She didn't come to the Burrow, she would never come here on her own. She used Dumbledore's whiskers. She needs her Secret Keeper." And sure enough, when he reached down to her off hand, a lock of white hair tied with ribbon slipped out.

This woman knew Dumbledore. If he was her Secret Keeper, then that made her Order, didn't it? Who the bloody hell was she? Harry caught Ginny's eye, and he knew she was thinking the same thing.

"But…but you can't have a Portkey to a person," Tonks argued.

Charlie shook his head. "Not now, Nymphadora." He aimed his wand and muttered an incantation.

The woman woke, blinked, and leapt off the couch with her wand outstretched toward Charlie. Tonks reacted instantly, stepping between them with her own wand drawn.

"Stop!" Charlie snapped. "Think! We know each other! Nym! What are you doing? Lower your wand!"

"You know I can't do that, Charlie. It doesn't matter who she is or how well I know her. I took an oath, and she's got her wand trained on you."

"Come on!" Charlie said. "She's not going to hurt me!"

"I might," the woman growled. "_Who the fuck stunned me_?"

Charlie froze, and then slowly a lopsided smile grew across his face. "Hello, Esmerelda."

"What are you doing here?" the woman demanded of Charlie. Her accent was flat. American. She seemed disoriented, and from where Harry sat he could see she'd taken a few blows to the head. She had a bruise over her left temple and a gash on her chin. "Charlie Weasley. You're not supposed to be here, damn it!" His name almost became a sob.

"Yes, I am," Charlie told her with an apologetic smile, and his gentle voice. "Your Portkey leads to me now."

The woman stood there for a moment, staring at him. There was a slight shake of her head. "It can't."

"It does."

"I don't believe you," she said, and her eyes narrowed on him. Her fist tightened around her wand.

"Ez," Tonks warned. "Don't be stupid."

"How do I know it's really you?" Esmerelda shouted. "You're not supposed to be at the other end of that Portkey. Neither of you are! And someone stunned me…" She pressed a hand to her side and winced.

"_De ce oare ai plecat_," Charlie said quietly.

The woman closed her eyes.

"_Cat de frumoasa esti_."

"Fuck," the woman said. "It is you. Only you would call me beautiful." She relaxed, her shoulders sagged. Tonks dropped her wand as well and rushed to Esmerelda. They embraced fiercely until Esmerelda grunted in pain. She still held her side.

"You need to go to hospital," Tonks said.

"Later." The woman pulled away and turned to Charlie. "You're the new Secret Keeper, eh?"

"In the flesh," he said with a grin.

"That was probably the stupidest thing you've ever done, and that's saying something, you stupid fuck." She pulled herself up straighter and crossed her arms. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. Secret Keeper, eh? Merlin, Charlie, why don't you just paint a target on your chest and run naked through the streets of Bucharest conjuring flowers and candy, eh? Oh, that's right, you did that already."

"Thinking about me naked, are you?" he quipped.

The woman scowled. "You'll never change."

This sobered Charlie. He pursed his lips. "You've come to Whisper, then? What do you have to report?"

"Not until we're alone," she said.

"What? Me?" Tonks said. "You can't be serious. I've _Impervius-_ed the house."

"What about the two on the stairs?" she asked, and Harry knew they were caught.

"Come down, you two," Charlie called. "It's all right, Mere. This is my sister, Ginny-"

"I don't care if she's the Minister of Magic, she's not Order."

Ginny lifted her chin and stood a little straighter.

"Mere," Charlie said, his voice low and patient. "This here is Harry Potter." He placed a strong hand on Harry's shoulder.

The woman's eyes went wide. "You're serious? Harry Potter." She scrutinized Harry the way people always did, taking in the black hair and the green eyes and the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. "Oh, fuck, you're serious." She sounded disappointed.

Ginny stepped protectively in front of Harry. "Who the bloody hell do you think you are?" she demanded indignantly.

"Ginny, wait," Charlie said, and held out a hand to his sister. "Mere, you have to understand. He's young, yeah, but he's quite powerful."

"Quite powerful?" the woman screeched. "Has he even eaten in a week? How can he hope to stand up to a serious fight, let alone wipe out You-Know-Who? He's got no muscle mass! He couldn't possibly have any significant stamina! I just spent the last _seven_ hours battling ten to one! I was slashed, _Crucio-_ed…you have to have stamina to battle for hours…" She shook her head. "He'll never be able to defeat You-Know-Who."

"Ten to one?" Tonks asked.

"You were slashed?" Charlie gasped.

"His name is Voldemort," Harry snapped. "And yes, I will."

The woman looked at Harry, and her dark eyes locked with his. She was challenging him…no, she was Reading him. He felt her inside his head. Harry put a hand to his temple. "Get out…."

"Mere!" Charlie snapped angrily, and he reached for her. "Stop!"

The woman immediately turned away from Harry and held out a hand to keep Charlie away. "Stay back," she said, but the sudden movement seemed to cause her more pain, and she flinched violently.

"You're hurt. You need help."

"If you touch me now…I'm too exhausted," Esmerelda said. "Please, stay back."

Charlie stiffly nodded.

"Fuck, Charlie," she continued through a grimace. "Why didn't you stay in Romania? I can't believe I'm saying this, but you'd probably be safer in Romania these days. This isn't Romania, is it, eh?"

"England," Charlie told her.

"Of course it is." She coughed, and swayed a little.

"Right," said Charlie. "Enough is enough. I'm taking you to St. Mungo's. You need to see a healer."

"I do," the woman agreed. "But first I have things to tell you. Just you, Secret Keeper. It's important. You know it is or I wouldn't have come here."

Charlie's eyes never left her when he said, "All right then. Everyone out. Nym, seal this place up."

* * *

When Harry and Ginny emerged from the house, they were immediately bombarded by Ron and Hermione.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded.

"Who was that bird?" Ron asked.

"Is Charlie all right?" Hermione asked. "We tried to get in but the house was sealed. What happened?"

"Is Charlie still in there? What about her – the witch? Is she still in there, too?" Ron looked past Harry, through the door's window. "What are they doing? What did she say? Who is she?"

"Lupin said he'd never seen her before," Hermione told them. "But he didn't seem surprised that Tonks seemed to know her. _Did_ Tonks know her? She seemed to."

"Let the bloke talk," Ron snapped at Hermione.

She glared at him. "I'm just telling him what we found out."

"We didn't find anything out!" Ron said. He turned back to Harry. "Where did she come from? Is she Order?" Hermione didn't say anything, but looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry shared a glance with Ginny. They knew something together that the others didn't; something that they would have to tell, Harry knew, but he liked having this secret with her. Ginny looked down at his hand, and then laced her fingers through his. She liked having this secret with him, too. He could tell.

Hermione's eyes went wide as she looked at their joined hands, and then she smiled approvingly at Harry. "What did happen in there?"

"Has Ron danced with you yet?" Ginny asked her.

Hermione's face immediately fell.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ron demanded. "What happened in the house?"

"Her name is Esmerelda. You get the rest of the story after we dance," Ginny said succinctly.

"_What_?" Ron's screech caused heads to turn. The guests were still a little on edge.

"So there is a story?" Hermione asked.

"Not now," Harry said, surveying the crowd. "Not here. We'll talk when we can be alone."

"We can go up to my room now," Ron said.

"Tonks has _Impervius-_ed the house again. Esmerelda's Whispering..." Ginny said with a sly grin, "...to her Secret Keeper."

"So, she is Order!" Hermione gasped. Harry didn't understand her delight.

"But…what about Tonks," Ron said. "Isn't she still in there?"

"Later," Ginny insisted. "Come on, Harry. Dance with me."

He couldn't refuse. Her hand felt right in his, and her grip was wonderfully strong. Probably because of Quidditch, Harry decided. She was a brilliant player.

She led him to the dance floor where a couple of people had worked through the earlier scare and were now enjoying the party again. Harry realized the crowd had definitely thinned out a little, but there were enough wizards and witches milling about drinking and eating and chatting to make the evening feel festive.

Bill and Fleur still sat at the bridal table, and were still ensconced in the magic bubble. Harry tilted his head to Bill, offered him a reassuring smile, and Bill smiled back. Harry saw him relax and slide an arm around his new wife. Everything was fine.

Except that everything was not fine. There had been a battle somewhere this evening and the mysterious woman had valuable information - information that she was giving to Charlie and the Order, and information that Harry needed. He looked back at the house. Why hadn't Charlie let him give his oath? What wasn't Charlie telling him?

"Not now," Ginny whispered, and Harry realized they were standing in the middle of the dance floor. "No unhappy thoughts, no worries. Now we dance. We celebrate my brother's wedding."

"What about Neville?" Harry asked. He hated that she had a date.

She placed his hands on her waist and slid hers up his chest and around his neck. "I'll dance with him later. Right now, I'm with you."

It was easy, small steps in time to the music. There were no fancy dance moves. He just held her and reveled in the feel of her body so close to his. The breeze was warm, and together with the soft lights, it helped Harry to forget everything but her. She smelled of flowers. He pulled her even closer.

"You look very handsome tonight," she whispered to him.

"Thank you," he said. "You look nice, too." It was almost laughable how much of an understatement that was.

"Don't you think Hermione looks lovely?"

"Hermione always looks lovely," Harry said. "You'll keep an eye on them, won't you? When I leave?"

Her gaze became soulful. "You'll really leave them behind?"

"Yes," he told her honestly. "They'll stay with you. There are things that I'll have to do alone. It's my destiny, not theirs."

"They won't let you go, you know. And I won't-"

"Whatever you're thinking, Ginny, you've got to stop. If something happened to you, I'd never be able to do what needs to be done." She squeezed him tighter, and Harry felt emotion swell in his throat. "I wish I could take you with me. Please believe me. I'm meant to do this alone."

"I know," she said into his chest.

Harry rested his cheek in her hair and sighed.

Ron had his arms around Hermione, and his hands were spread wide across her bare back. She held him tight around his middle, and the two of them swayed a little. It was as close to dancing as Ron and Hermione were likely to get, and yet, she didn't look disappointed. And neither did Ron. Harry hadn't seen that dopey grin on his face since he'd eaten those spiked Cauldron Cakes from Romilda Vane last year.

One dance turned into a night's worth, and suddenly it was midnight. Mr. Weasley began looking for Charlie to finish the ceremony.

"What do you mean he hasn't come out of the house?" he asked Ginny. "He's been in there for hours!"

She shrugged. The house was still sealed, and there was no sign that they were coming out anytime soon.

"I suppose I can do it," Mr. Weasley said.

"But you haven't done a Transcendence Spell in years!" Mrs. Weasley objected. "Let Charlie do it, Arthur. I'm sure he'll be out very soon. He wouldn't forget his brother's wedding-"

And just then the door slammed open and Charlie stormed out with his tie undone and his shirt haphazardly buttoned. Harry had never seen him angry before – in fact, the anger transformed his normally gentle face into something hard and terrible. Angry Charlie was even worse than serious Charlie. He fumed as he rushed into the garden, wand in hand.

Tonks hurried out after him. "Charlie wait! Don't leave it like this! Talk to her!"

There was the pop of someone Disapparating, and Charlie stopped dead in his tracks. He looked stricken; from fury to regret in one breath.

"Too late," he said, and then looked over his shoulder to the house. His anger melted away, and his broad shoulders slumped just as Harry had seen Ron's do a thousand times over.

Charlie turned back to Bill and managed a weak smile. "Ready to make it official?"

"Charlie? What's going on? Who was that? Was that who I think it was?"

"Forget it, Bill. The only witch you need to worry about is your beautiful bride." Charlie waved his wand and transfigured the dance floor into a four step dais, and let Bill lead his wife up to the platform's center. Charlie raised his wand. The magic field around Bill and Fleur wavered a little and turned purple. They faced each other, and looked down at their bound hands where Bill's thumb played with her new ring. She smiled. The magical netting grew smaller, changed to red and then orange and then a light gold, and then it began to shrink around them until it was absorbed by their flesh. Everyone applauded. The couple kissed, and then were all smiles and waves. Mrs. Weasley cried and clapped, and laughed all at once. Mr. Weasley, sniffing in his own right, handed her his handkerchief.

Bill and Fleur came down from their dais, and for the first time that night they were able to embrace their family and friends. They went through the crowd accepting kisses and congratulations. It was over; they were married. There was nothing left to do but relax and enjoy. Charlie took a seat on the steps he created and leaned back on his elbows, stared up at the stars.

Neville approached Harry. He cleared his throat. "Ginny," he began, but he looked nervously at Harry. "I wondered…well…"

The music started up again, and fresh food appeared on the tables. People began to dance and laugh. The earlier scare seemed forgotten. Even Ron was caught up in the fun, and Harry watched as he pulled Hermione laughing back out on to the dance floor. She went easily into his arms.

"Excuse me," Harry said, and he slipped away from Ginny and her date. He grabbed a couple of wine glasses from a nearby table and headed over to Charlie.

"She was your hypothetical," Harry said, as he handed Charlie a drink.

"What?"

Harry sat on the step beside him and took a sip. The honey wine was sweet and warm. "That witch. You called her Esmerelda. She was the hypothetical you talked about last week."

Charlie looked back up at the stars. "I like you, Harry. Mostly because you're a normal chap, like Ron, or me when I was your age. You're not the mythos that people have created around you. You're a bloke who's smart and loyal and courageous, but you're normal. Except at times like this, when you've got the wisdom of the ages in your eyes. Dumbledore used to look at me like that. Stop it."

"Sorry," Harry said, and he took another sip. He leaned back and gazed heavenward.

"Esmerelda Wizmere. And yes, she was my…hypothetical is a good word. Bloody hell." Charlie took a long sip, and closed his eyes, savoring the flavor. "Don't ask, Harry. I'm not going to tell you."

"I know," Harry said.

"Yeah, of course you do," Charlie said wistfully. "So, how are things with Ginny? Did she save you a dance?"

"Er…a couple."

"Great." Charlie took another deep drink.

"She's dancing with Neville now. He's her date."

"Yeah," said Charlie.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, telling himself he wasn't looking for Ginny. He found Ron instead, arms wrapped securely around Hermione, and she held him back. Something clenched in Harry's belly, something dark and confusing. He didn't fancy her. He knew he didn't. Why, then when he looked at him did he feel so…odd? Upset. Left out. That was it, wasn't it? They had been three for years now. And now they were becoming two plus Harry.

But he was leaving, he tried to remind himself. He was leaving, and they were together, and it was as it should be. He turned back and looked up at the stars. It was good, he decided. If Charlie was right, and the Weasleys never changed their minds once they fell in love, then Hermione would be fine with Ron – and Ron would most certainly be fine with Hermione. She never changed her mind about anything.

"Was it hard for you to leave?" Harry asked him. "When you left? For Romania?"

Charlie shook his head. "I was excited. I wanted to go." He thought for a moment and then added: "I missed my family, though. And my friends. It was hard being without my friends. More than I expected."

"You and Tonks went to school together, didn't you?" Harry asked.

Charlie nodded. "We dated for a while in sixth year. Bet you didn't know that."

Harry didn't. "But…you're good friends now."

"The best," Charlie agreed. "Actually, we were best friends then, too. That's why we stopped dating, I think. We were better at the friendship thing. It worked out well, though, because once it was known that Tonks would have me, half the girls in Gryffindor suddenly found me alluring."

He chuckled at the memory. "And she went around, 'Oh, he's _such_ a good kisser,' and 'he's so very sweet to the girl he dates!' She helped me get my next four girlfriends before we graduated. Good old Tonks. Of course, she wasn't Tonks then. She was still Nymphadora. No one said it to her face, though." He looked wistful. "I liked Nym. Can't imagine why she'd change it."

"But...you said the Weasleys always stay true. How could you have so many girlfriends?" Harry glanced over his shoulder. Ron was whispering in Hermione's ear. She shivered. If they broke it off, would they still be best friends? Could they make it work the way Charlie and Tonks had?

"I said once we fall in love, we're in love forever. I didn't fall in love at Hogwarts." Charlie finished off his drink.

"How do you know if you're in love, then? How do you know it's not just fancy?"

Charlie gave him a sideways look and the corners of his lips rose. "That's a complicated question. Too complicated for just one drink. I think I'll go find another." He rolled himself up to standing, and headed off, not toward the tables, but out to the orchard.


	5. Chapter 4 A Terrible Sunshine

Part 1 – Summer

Chapter 4 – A Terrible Sunshine

Harry woke on the floor in front of the fireplace in the Burrow's living room, neck and back stiff and aching, head throbbing, and stomach revolting. He had an almost empty bottle of wine in one hand, and Ginny's breast cupped in the other. She was lying with her back curled against him, her head on his arm, her feet tangled with his left leg. For a moment Harry thought it was the most bizarre, lovely dream he'd ever had. Then, he realized he was awake and it wasn't quite so lovely anymore.

What the hell had happened?

He made to move, and burning knives came to life in his arm and so, without even meaning to he jerked enough to wake her. She moaned, sat up, and grabbed at her head with both hands. She groaned a miserable, "Bloody hell."

Harry understood the sentiment. The sun blazed through the windows, and the room was overly warm. Harry squinted. Where was his wand? Where were his trousers? He stared down at his bare legs sticking out from his grey pants, and tried to remember taking them off. Why the bloody hell would he take off his trousers at Bill's wedding? Then he looked back over at Ginny, and even though she still had her robes on, panic quivered through him, his stomach seized. Oh, Merlin! Why couldn't he remember anything?

Think! Think! He remembered the wine, the cake, Ron and Hermione's first tentative kiss behind the broomshed – that he didn't want to remember. Charlie had wandered back, he recalled, and they'd shared some more wine. Tonks and Lupin had danced on a table. Mrs. Weasley had thrown flowers at them – why had she done that, again? There was a pretty French girl with long, sleek brown hair who kept trying to get Harry to dance. Had he kissed her? He didn't think so. Ginny and Neville had danced – no, that had been earlier. The twins set off fireworks – that had been a laugh. Charlie had danced with Tonks, and Harry remembered wondering if Lupin knew they had dated once. His happy smile seemed to say no.

When had the musicians left? When had the sun come up? How had Harry's socks ended up on Ginny's feet?

"I'm going to be sick…" Ginny said, and she swayed a little as she struggled to stand. She eyed the stairs warily and opted to bolt out the kitchen door, holding her stomach as she fled.

Harry's stomach churn even more, and he ran out after her. The brilliance of the sun outside was so excruciating it knocked him back a step or two. Retching sounds came from the garden, and Harry wandered in there to see Ginny in her lovely robes, bent over the low, wide stone fence. That was when his stomach finally gave up its valiant fight, and he doubled over and emptied its contents. Three times. When had he eaten peas?

"Remind me never to drink that much again," Ginny said as she gingerly lowered herself to the ground. She used the stone wall as a backrest. "At least on an empty stomach. Oh, I want to die."

Harry hobbled over and dropped down beside her. "Where are my trousers?" he asked.

"Oh." She smirked and looked down at his white legs. "I'd forgotten. I think they're still down by the pond." She cast a Mouth Cleaning Spell on herself, and then, with a sideways glance at him, cast one on Harry too.

His whole head tingled. The pond? "What are they doing down there?"

"You probably left them there. When Ron kissed Hermione, remember?" She smiled and raised her face – eyes closed – to the warm sun. "I can't believe he finally did it. It's about bloody time."

"I remember…" Right. It had been at the pond not the broomshed. He was going to go for a dip…and Harry had taken off his trousers…and Ron had reached over and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders - had she taken off her dress? And Ron had kissed her. And then she kissed him. And then Harry needed to get the hell out of there, only his legs couldn't manage a straight line and Ginny had to walk him back to the house with her shoulder under his arm, and her face so very close to his, giggling the whole way. He told her she was beautiful. She was.

"I reckon I should go get them," he said quietly. He'd been pissed the night before. What else had he said? What had he done? Why did Ginny have a small oval-shaped bruise on her neck? He couldn't stop looking at it.

"What?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Harry? What is it?" Ginny asked again.

"You have a love bite. Here. On your neck." He wiped a finger over her velvety skin, and that tiny contact hummed through his whole arm. He wanted so badly to kiss her there, to kiss away the mark and leave his own. Or was it his?

Her hand closed over his finger, and she gently led him down her smooth throat to the top of her chest, and then under the shoulder of her robes. Their hands together pushed the cloth aside, and there were three more bruises covering the freckles on her soft skin where her breast met her arm. His brain buzzed and his body…he really needed his trousers.

"You don't remember this, do you?" Ginny asked, clearly disappointed.

"Yes," he lied. He knew she didn't believe him.

"We were like this," she said. She got up on her knees, lifted the hem of her robes, and straddled Harry's lap.

It did put the love bites at mouth level, but it also put her warm crotch up against his. He groaned at the contact, and clutched her backside to pull her closer. How could she feel so incredible when he felt so rotten? She placed both her hands on either side of his face, and leaned down just enough so that her lips lightly brushed his. It was a caress more than a kiss, a sweep of skin over skin, breath against breath.

"Any of this coming back to you?"

His hands strayed down the robes over her thighs until they found flesh, and slowly they skimmed back up again. Oh, bloody Merlin. Her knickers. Had they really done this last night? She slowly pressed her hips forward, and the contact between them left him panting.

"Ginny," he begged.

"I know that you want this, Harry. I want it, too."

"We can't," he pleaded. "I can't."

"Why?"

"I…don't remember…"

"Then don't worry about it. You worry too much."

She kissed him again, and he couldn't resist. He thrust his tongue between her lips, between her teeth. The feel of her kissing him back, of her hands under his shirt, of her body pressed against him, on him, and the feel of his arousal wedged between them, it was overwhelming. Harry moaned in pleasure as passion took over. He wasn't thinking about anything but the way she touched him as he pushed her to the ground. Her legs went around his thighs, her hands in the back of his pants. He ground his hips against her, and caught on something down there between her legs; a little shelf so hot that he could feel it through the thin layers of shorts and kickers - a niche. He bucked against here there, and she gasped again, her legs went tighter round him, her hands clawed to force him closer. The pleasure was so intense Harry had to close his eyes. His hips thrust against her and that perfect little cleft in her body. There was another tiny gasp from her with the barest hint of voice on its tail. She liked it, whatever it was that he was doing to her. On her. With her. He wanted to be in her. Oh, Merlin…

Coils of tension thrilled through his pelvis and an exquisite pressure began to build. His lungs no longer worked properly, his head began to swim. The thought of pulling away was fleeting and easily forgotten as her hands kneaded his bum. She drew him closer with each thrust. The hum in his body grew stronger, the pressure twisted tighter. Her feet locked over his lower back and he thought he might die from the pleasure.

"Oh, shit! Harry!" she cried. "Oh, Harry! Love…I love…Oh, _shit_!"

She bucked up beneath him, and gave a strangled cry. Her body curled, her hands clutched so tight he couldn't move, and for a breath or three he froze and watched her eyes twist shut, her face in absolute ecstasy. She convulsed. Gasped again. Ginny collapsed on the ground below him.

Harry knew what had happened; he'd had enough climaxes of his own to recognize one when he saw it. But as he stared down at her, all red and beautiful and relaxed, a new panic shot through him like liquid ice.

Her brown eyes cracked open. A slow smile spread across her face. "Harry," she said on a sigh.

"No…" It was the only word that played through his head. "No…no…" It would be different if she was his girlfriend, he told himself, if he wasn't leaving right away. Today, he should leave today. Now.

"Oh, bloody hell." It was a voice that had become all too familiar over the last week. Harry grabbed Ginny's hem without thinking and covered her. Charlie stood at the garden gate, still wearing his dressrobes from the night before, but looking rumpled and maybe a little sick. He sighed, braced his hands on his hips, and shook his head. "I thought we talked about this."

"I…I'm…"

"Discretion!" Charlie said. "Don't the two of you have any sense at all? Shit, Harry! Put that thing away!" Charlie raised a hand to block out Harry's current state from view. "No one wants to see that!"

"Go away, then!" Ginny snapped. She got to her feet. "This has nothing to do with you!"

"And I'm only too glad for that!" Charlie replied. "Harry, we have another chat in our future."

Ginny stepped between them.

"Leave!" she ordered her brother. "You're going to ruin this!"

Charlie sobered some and studied Harry for a moment. "No, I don't think it will be me," he said. "Find me later, Harry." He turned without waiting for Harry to respond, which was just as well because Harry wasn't sure he had the capacity to nod at the moment, and he certainly wasn't going to tell Charlie Weasley no.

Ginny spun around. "You all right?" she asked, probably because Harry was hunched over his aching bullocks. "You're not going to be sick, are you?"

"I…" His voice cracked. "No."

She reached out to him. He flinched. "Harry? What is it?"

"Mistake," he heard himself say. "Sorry…I'm a git…my fault…"

"It wasn't a mistake," she said plainly. "Harry, I love you."

It was as if she found the one thing to devastate him, and still his heart soared. She loved him! He began to shake. "Ginny, no. You can't."

"Of course I can," she told him. "I do."

"But…but…" When he left what would she do? When he died, what would happen to her? Harry knew what it was to love people and lose them – and he'd never even been _in love_ with any of them. It would be worse, a hundred times worse for her, he knew, because it would be a hundred times worse for him if something were to happen to her. "Ginny," he said, "but I'm leaving. We can't be together. You see that, don't you?"

Her eyes dulled, and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "You'll let me come with you," she said. She didn't sound as if she believed it.

"No," he told her.

"Please." There was very little plea in the word. She knew he would never allow it.

He shook his head. "I won't let you die, too. I won't have your death on my head as well!"

"As well?" Ginny said in disbelief. "Harry-"

"He's already hurt you, Ginny. He's already touched you. I couldn't protect you from him then. But I can stop him now. I have to stop him, and I will. On my own, with no one in danger but me. No one will have to die to stop him but me. I'm sorry, Ginny. Truly, I am. I never should've come here. I'm meant to be alone."

A sob erupted from her that tore his heart in two.

"Oi! Harry!" Ron's cheerful greeting came from the direction of the pond, and Harry turned to see him leading Hermione by the hand. Both of their smiles faded quickly when the saw Ginny.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron looked from Harry to Ginny and then back again. "Oh, bugger. What did you do? Do I have to pummel you now?"

"Oh, Ron!" Ginny wailed. "Go away!"

"Did he hurt you?" Ron demanded of his sister. As if Harry could. As if he ever would.

Hermione tugged him back a little. "Let them be," she said quietly to him.

"Forget it," Harry said. He headed for the house. His things were packed already. He'd only been staying for the wedding, anyway. He would be dressed and on his way in ten minutes.

It was still relatively early considering the late night everyone had, so Harry wasn't surprised to hear the soft snores behind Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom door. The twins were asleep too, passed out on their respective beds. Their door was wide open, and they were still half-dressed, feet and arms hanging every which way. All was quiet behind Bill and Charlie's old door. Bill had, no doubt, left with his new bride at sunup. Charlie, Harry knew, wasn't asleep at all.

The ghoul in the attic was thumping around when Harry made it up to Ron's room. He often did that after a loud night. Normally, Ron put a Knocking Spell on the ceiling, and the rhythmic bangs would calm the creature, but Harry didn't bother. He would only be a minute or two.

He pulled off the remains of his dress robes - his now-too-small shirt, and tie. Yes, his socks were gone, his trousers gone, but somehow he'd managed to retain his tie. And where the blood hell were his shoes? Not that it mattered, really. He couldn't imagine ever needing shiny, black lace-ups again. He pulled jeans and a t-shirt from his trunk and put on socks and his trainers. His semi was painful, but shrinking. He tried to ignore it.

A coo at the window reminded Harry he had one more thing to do. He knelt on Ron's bed and brushed back the curtains. Hedwig sat beautiful and white, blinking at him. She cooed happily again, and gave his offered finger an affectionate nip.

"Hallo, girl," Harry said. "I'm going to be leaving now, and I want you to stay here. Ginny will take good care of you. She'll give you treats. You're hers now – no, don't be like that. She's going to need you."

Hedwig ruffled her wing, and squawked her objection.

"I know," Harry assured her. "I'll miss you, too. You've been a lovely friend to me."

"Harry?" Hermione knocked softly on the door, and then poked her head inside. "You all right?"

"Brilliant," he said tersely.

She came in and shut the door behind her. "Ginny's crying. She ran off to the orchard."

Harry hung his head. He was the worst wizard in the world.

"Ron's gone after her, but I don't think she'll talk to him. Shouldn't you go after her? Smooth things over?" Hermione sat next to him on Ron's bed.

"I can't. I have to go. Ginny told me she loves me."

"Oh, _Harry_!" She threw her arms around him. "That's wonderful!"

He pushed her away. "No, it's not. It's horrible. Charlie said that the Weasleys only ever fall in love once. That they're true to that one love forever."

Hermione blinked at him. "I'm still waiting for the horrible bit."

"_Hermione__,_" he moaned, frustrated. Was she going to make him spell it out? "I'm leaving. And when I don't come back, what is she going to do? She'll be like Charlie and that witch…" What was her name again?

"Charlie and that witch? You mean, he _loves_ her?" Hermione smiled scandalously. "How do you know? What do you know about her? Who is she? We were wondering about her all night. She's quite pretty, don't you think? In an exotic sort of way?"

Harry didn't even know what that meant.

Hermione put her arm around Harry's shoulders. "We are a lot alike, you and I." He feigned a startled look and she laughed. "We both love Weasleys. It's not easy, and it doesn't always make sense, but we do."

Harry shook his head. "It can't be love. It's not. It's just fancy. Isn't it? It has to be. I can't love her, Hermione. And, I can't stay here. Not after what I did to her this morning."

She leaned away from him, studied him with concern. "What did you do, Harry?"

He hung his head. Why had he said anything at all? Now she would drag it out of him, wheedle the information detail by detail. Unless…his broom was in the corner, he could make his escape.

"Harry, it's me. You can tell me anything."

He sighed. "We…in the garden…I don't know what you call it. But we…well…it's not sex, exactly."

"What?" Hermione cried.

"It was sort of like sex, but without the, you know, sex part."

"Harry!"

"I know!" he cried, and shoved the heel of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. "I know. It was a mistake. A bloody _huge_ mistake! I knew that as soon as she came."

"She _came_? Harry, that is sex!"

"No, no," he insisted. "I didn't…finish…and I wasn't, you know…inside, or anything."

"Oh, Harry, that hardly matters."

"Of course it matters! She's still…I didn't take her…"

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. "You took her heart, Harry. And you made love to her."

"No," Harry whimpered.

"You have to talk to her."

"I can't."

"Stay another week. Wish her a happy birthday. Give Ginny the proper good-bye she deserves, not just some mistake in the garden. She means more to you than that. Even if you don't want to call it love yet."

"I don't know what to say," he admitted.

"It's a good thing you've got friends, then. We'll help you think of something."

Harry's heart felt very heavy in his chest as he nodded. Another week. Harry had lost his mind.

* * *

It was too warm in the house, so Harry wandered out to Hermione in the garden where she lounged in a hammock with a thick book on Rowena Ravenclaw. Mrs. Weasley had gone to market and taken Ginny with her.

Hermione smiled when she saw him, and stretched out the netting next to her. "Plenty of room," she said. "Join me?"

Harry shrugged. He maneuvered himself so that he sat next to Hermione's bare feet, and cross his ankles at her shoulders.

"Ginny's still avoiding me. Your relationship wisdom doesn't seem to have worked on her. She looks perpetually one step away from hexing me into tomorrow."

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "Even Mr. Weasley has noticed. Not that he's oblivious, or anything, but he tends to see what he wants here at the Burrow. He came down the stairs this morning while Ron and I were…well, on the couch, and didn't even break his stride on his way to the kitchen for tea."

"So, you and Ron, then? It's still good?"

"Very," Hermione breathed. "And the best part is we talk. Not just chat, or row, but we actually have conversations. About important things. Like the philosophy of Shield Spells, or politics. He knows loads about what's going on at the Ministry, because of his father, you know? It's lovely."

"Brilliant," Harry said. So, why did that make his mood even bleaker?

Tonks rounded the house, and waved. "Wotcher. So, where's the other one?"

"Who? Ron? He's sleeping."

Tonks gave an amused snort. "Do all Weasleys do that, then? Is Charlie in napping as well? I gave the door a knock, but no one answered."

"Charlie went out this morning," Hermione told her. "Haven't seen him since."

"How early?" Tonks asked, no longer smiling.

"Couldn't have been much past seven. We shared a pot of coffee."

Tonks gave an irritated glance back at the house. "He didn't happen to say where he was going, now, did he? No, of course he didn't. Wizards!" she said, disgusted.

"Could be he's doing something for the Order," Harry suggested.

"Oh, I know right what he's doing, and it's not for the Order. The lousy wanker!" With her hands on her hips, she glared at Harry. He was the only male target around. "Can't keep well enough alone, that wizard. Would needle a dragon just to see what would happen! I _told_ him I'd talk to her! How long has he known me now? When have I ever let him down? Bloody flaming hell! Charlie Weasley's going to be the death of me!"

There was a CRACK, as Charlie Apparated in, anxious and scowling.

"Oh, speak of the devil!" Tonks shouted at him. "Made things worse, have you? Couldn't trust that I'd handle things?"

Charlie covered the ground between them impressively fast. "Where is she? She's not staying with you? Remus said he hadn't seen her since the wedding-"

"She's with a friend."

"Who?" Charlie demanded. "What is she playing at? Why can't I find her?"

"No one's playing, Charlie. I gave her a sleeping draught last night. She's probably still out."

"She was hurt," he protested. "Did she go to St. Mungo's? I know she didn't; I checked."

"She's strong, and the wounds weren't too bad. Remus and I took turns patching her up – she should be fine."

"I knew Remus was lying!" Charlie said. But the triumph in his voice was fleeting. "Damn it! She's hiding from me."

"She's sleeping," Tonks said.

"Tell me where she is."

"What? After the row you two had? I think not! Her wounds weren't life threatening, but she still needs rest."

"She needs me!"

Tonks shook her head. "She's mourning, Charlie. Everything she had is gone. She's got nothing at all except her wand and the ruined clothes she arrived in. All her friends, her fellow North American Order members, they're all done in. Bloody Merlin, can you believe Santiago's dead? I just can't imagine a wizard like that ever dying. It's like Dumbledore all over again."

Harry felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut, and no one seemed to notice.

"So, she's staying, then? With you?"

"I told you: with a friend." Tonks gave him a tired look. "Charlie, she needs a little time. She's still…why did she leave Romania?"

Charlie's lips narrowed, his brows lowered even more. "How much time?"

"Well, more than you want to give, isn't it?"

Charlie kicked the ground and spun around in frustration. "She came back, Nym! It must mean something!"

"Could be," she admitted. "Sometimes we get second chances to get it right. Don't botch it, Weasley. Give her the space she needs. Don't go looking for her."

"She's all right, though? Honestly? You'd make her go to hospital if she wasn't?"

"She's the same old Ez - strong as a hippogriff. Except when it comes to you."

Then Tonks did something that shocked the hell out of Harry. She held out her arms and embraced Charlie. He hugged her back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You two are a pair," Tonks said, her cheek against his shoulder. "It really rattled her to see you again. After the battle she'd fought the last thing she expected to see was you. She likened it to a terrible sunshine after a storm."

"She said that?" he asked.

"Yep."

"Didn't I call her that once?"

"Like I said, you two are a pair."

"I can't believe she remembered that."

Tonks just smiled.

* * *

"What do you want?" Ginny sounded less annoyed through her bedroom door than she had in days, and Harry took that to be a good sign.

"Can I come in?"

"I suppose." The door unlatched itself, and Harry found Ginny lying on her belly on her bed, her legs bent up, and a magazine on the pillow in front of her. "Hermione's still in the shower. She's taking long showers these days."

Harry took a seat on Hermione's rollaway bed. "I just thought to…" He had to begin again. "I had it all planned out – what I was going to say to you, but now I can't...I lose my head a bit when I'm around you. I don't know why."

The corner of her mouth crooked. "Really? There's no great mystery there."

"This isn't safe. You and me. We can't be together. I know it's not what you want to hear, but Ginny…"

"I've heard all this before."

"Yeah. I know. I'm sorry." He stared at his fists balanced on his knees. "Gin, what happened the other day, it was…brilliant. I care for you, Ginny-"

"You love me."

He froze. The words hung heavy between them.

"I know you, Harry Potter. You never would've touched me like you did in the garden if your heart wasn't in it." She was so very confident in her accusation.

Harry wondered if he was truly as noble as she believed him to be. When he was lying on top of her, rutting against her, he hadn't been thinking about love, or anything else beyond how good she felt and how much he wanted her. Just the memory made his stomach tingle now.

"Those words contain a promise I can't make to you," he said at last. "I wish I could. Maybe someday…"

"There's no promise, Harry. It's just a statement of fact. I love you and you love me. And pretending you don't is just as pointless as the Minister of Magic pretending Voldemort hasn't risen. And someday it will bite you in the ass, too."

She didn't wait for him to respond, but rolled back on her belly, and began flipping through the magazine. He had been dismissed.

Harry couldn't bring himself to leave, though. He sat there watching her read the captions on the moving photos, trying to come up with another way of explaining himself to her.

"I forgive you, Harry. Is that what you need to hear? I'm not mad at you anymore."

"All right."

She tossed him a magazine. "Read this and stop staring at me."

_Quidditch Illustrated_. He stretched out on Hermione's rollaway bed and adjusted the pillow behind his head. Viktor Krum was on the cover, still glowering.

"The blokes who make the Firebolt have a new line. They're calling it the Missile. Top speed over two hundred miles an hour," Ginny told him. "They've got a photo of it in the What's New section. You have to wear that crazy helmet just to breathe, so I don't know if it would even be worth the extra speed."

Harry flipped a couple of pages until he found it. His heart skipped a beat. The Missile was lacquered blood-red, with nickel foot brakes, ergonomic broomstick, and the bristles were yellow and orange and shaped like fanciful fire. It was sleek and shiny, and it called to him from the page.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Ginny said.

"Gorgeous," Harry told her. The helmet would be more than worth it.

She gave a little laugh. "Oh, Harry. Sometimes you can be so predictable."

* * *

That night while Hermione helped Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, Ginny sat down next to Harry on the couch. Ron briefly looked up from his magazine.

"Here," she said, and handed Harry a cup of tea. "I put some honey in it."

"Oi! Where's mine?" Ron pouted. "No love for your brother, have you?"

"Don't you have a girlfriend to see to?" Ginny asked pointedly.

Ron deflated. "Awe, she's not my girlfriend."

"She's not?" Harry asked. Hadn't Hermione said they'd been snogging on the couch? "If you're going to mess around with her-"

"Well, not technically my girlfriend," Ron corrected. "But, it doesn't really have to be, you know, official, does it? I mean, Hermione's a smart girl. I'm sure she's worked it out. You could ask her, Ginny."

"Not me," Ginny said. "I don't want to date her."

"Just ask her if she thinks we're dating already," Ron said. "I mean, she let me touch her knockers, so…" His face crumpled with as he realized what he'd let slip - but not as much as Harry's.

"I don't want to hear that," Harry told him.

"She what?" Ginny cried, excited. "She did? You did? You touched them? Both of them?"

"Well, just the one. My other hand was in her hair." Ron broke into a sort of dreamy grin that made Harry's stomach clench. He really, really didn't want to know this.

"Through her bra?" Ginny asked. "Or did you get underneath?"

"No!" Harry cried at Ginny, and then he pointed an accusing finger at Ron. "Do _not_ answer that!"

Ginny laughed. "I'll get it all from Hermione later," she said and relaxed back beside Harry. She sipped her tea, and then deliberately cleared her throat. "Did you leave her any love marks?" Ginny asked her brother, and pulled the neck of her t-shirt down to show off the multiple oval bruises next to her arm.

Ron's eyes went wide, his face red. He shot an accusing glare at Harry.

"What did you show him that for?" Harry cried. She was going to get him killed.

"Well, you seemed concerned that Ron was messing around without actually asking Hermione to be his girlfriend," she said with false innocence. "I didn't think your hypocrisy should go unchecked."

"That's right," Ron said, his eyes newly ablaze as he realized what his sister was saying. He glared at Harry. "You're broken up with her, aren't you? What are you doing messing around with Ginny when you're broken up?"

"I'm…I'm not," Harry lamely said. "What about you and Hermione, huh?"

Ron narrowed his eyes. He looked from Harry to Ginny, and then back again. He glanced into the kitchen. "I'll ask her now," Ron said.

Harry just stared at him.

"You ask her," Ron said with a nod to his sister, "and I'll ask her." He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "It's only right."

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Ginny said.

Ron stood. He wavered for a moment, and Harry watched him swallow. Then he stood a little straighter and walked steadfast into the kitchen.

Alone together, and the question looming, the tension grew to a point that Harry thought he might come out of his skin. He put the cup down and turned to Ginny. She met his gaze.

"Gin," he said.

"It's all right," she told him. "I didn't really expect you to. Sorry about showing off the…" She glanced down at the love bites now properly hidden behind her shirt. Then she smiled. "Don't be too sore about it, Harry. It's some of your best work."

This made him chuckle a little. How did she do that? Make him laugh when he wanted to cry? "Did you see his eyes?" Harry asked. "I thought he'd forgotten how to breathe."

"You mean like that?" She nodded to Ron who was following Hermione in from the kitchen. He was smiling, even if he looked a little sick.

"He did it!" Hermione squealed to Ginny without preamble, still clutching a dish towel. "Right there with my hands in the sink! He did it! I mean, after last night I sort of figured we were anyway-"

"What? You mean I didn't have to ask?" Ron pouted.

"I like that you did," she said demurely. Harry had never seen Hermione outright flirt before. Ron's jaw dropped.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"Right now, what are you thinking?" he prompted.

She giggled and turned back to Ginny. She mouthed, _'__He asked!'_

It was Ginny's turn to giggle. "You said yes, of course!"

"Of course!"

"And what about you?" Ron asked Harry. He put an arm around Hermione's shoulders that was meant to be casual, but fell a little short. "Your turn."

The two of them there, smiling together, it touched something in Harry. It was weird, yes, but there was also something very right about it as well, and as right as it was, it left Harry feeling a little sad. He was a horrible friend.

"So, did you?" Ron asked again. "We agreed. I'd do Hermione, you do Ginny."

"Ron," Ginny said warily. "Not now."

"Wait. What do you mean you'd 'do me'?" Hermione stepped out of Ron's reach. "What does that mean? It's his turn, is it? You're taking turns?"

"Uh…what's wrong with you? I thought you were happy I made it official."

"Happy you made some sort of dodgy pact with Harry? I thought you _wanted_ to be my boyfriend! I didn't realize I was part of some sort of game!"

"Dodgy? I got down on my knees! My bleeding mum was right there! You're mental!"

"And you're…"

Ron's eyes burned with delight. "Say it, Hermione! You want to! Swear at me! Let it all out! We're dating now, you can swear for me. You know I love it when you swear."

She screamed her frustration and stormed out of the house. Ron, grinning like an idiot, was hot on her heels. "Oi! What are you thinking?"


	6. Chapter 5 The Talk

Part 1 – Summer

Chapter 5 – The Talk

It rained on Ginny's birthday. Harry woke to a crash of thunder so loud it shook his bed. Heart hammering, he felt for his glasses, shoved them on his face and read the small clock by Ron's bed. 9am. It was still dark as night, and Ron was softly snoring.

Harry padded down to the loo, and leaned way over the toilet to relieve his bladder. It had been another night of sexy dreams about Ginny. He looked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands, then his face. Shaving charm, he decided. Then he'd brush his teeth.

Oh his way out of the loo, he ran into a bushy-haired, bleary-eyed Hermione on the landing.

"Loo," she said groggily.

"I'm going down for breakfast," Harry told her. She grunted at him, and then went into the toilet. Odd, that. Hermione was usually a morning person.

The house was still quiet when Harry made it down to the kitchen. There was bacon and coffee already on the table, along with a rack of toast and a crock of marmalade. Mr. Weasley was, no doubt, already at work, but Harry was surprised that Mrs. Weasley was no where to be seen. He wondered if she'd decided to go back to bed once she realized the rest of the house would be late to rise.

Harry poured himself some coffee, grabbed a slice of toast, and then headed into the living room. He stopped short when he realized Ginny had beaten him to the chair by the window. She was sitting there, curled up with her knees under her chin, staring out past the rain that streamed down the diamond-shaped glass. She looked sad.

"Coffee?" Harry offered. "Or, I could make some tea."

She startled, then brightened when she saw it was him. "Nothing, thanks."

"Doesn't look like we'll be playing that game of birthday Quidditch after all," Harry said.

"Since when do you let weather dictate your Quidditch?" she asked. There was a dare in her tone that made him smile.

"When are you leaving? This morning? Tonight? Tomorrow?"

His smile melted away. Why couldn't she just be happy with today? "In the morning," he admitted. "Early."

The fireplace suddenly roared with green flames and the twins stepped out followed by Mrs. Weasley, all three carrying bags of groceries.

"Oh, good, you're up," Mrs. Weasley said. She handed off her two bags to Harry.

"The party will have to be moved inside," she continued, oblivious to the sullen mood between Harry and Ginny. The twins noticed, though, and they gave Ginny a wide birth. She was the one person, it seemed, Fred and George were truly afraid of.

The kitchen door slammed open, and Charlie Weasley skulked in, wet to the bone. He tossed his broom on the rack by the door, looking like hell. His face was pale which made the burn on his neck and cheek look abnormally pink, even under the heavy ginger stubble that grew in patches on his face. His eyes were red, haunted, and he didn't smile when he saw them. Harry knew something was very wrong.

"Charlie?" Mrs. Weasley said. "What's happened?"

He shook his head. "Happy birthday," he croaked to Ginny. He pulled a soggy wrapped box from his robes, and dripped all the way over to her.

"Charlie," Mrs. Weasley tried again. He stepped away from her before she could touch him.

"Going to pull on something dry," he said, already heading to the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley watched him trudge up. "Oh, dear."

"Harry, take me with you."

"Ginny, I can't."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to notice them for the first time. "What? Where are you going, Harry?"

"Yes, tell her, Harry," Ginny snapped. "Tell her you're leaving. Tell her how you have to go it alone!"

"Leaving?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "Where on Earth are you going?"

"I'm…" Harry's irritation at Ginny's behavior was tempered by her mother's concern. "Mrs. Weasley, I just have to go. I have things I have to do."

"He's going to take on Voldemort!" Ginny shouted.

"Nonsense!" her mother said. "He's still got another year at Hogwarts-"

"If it even opens," Fred chimed in.

"Now you listen to me, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said pointing a finger at him as she closed the distance between them. "You will not be taking that girl anywhere! Do you hear me?"

"I know," Harry told her. "I couldn't even if I wanted to." He shook his head.

"Look at me, Harry. Look in my eyes and tell me you're not going to steal my daughter away."

He met her gaze. "I swear it."

Mrs. Weasley seemed satisfied with this. "Fine, then. Now tell me why you're leaving."

Ginny, red-faced, stomped up the stairs.

"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley prodded again.

"I'm just leaving," he said. "I have to..."

"Harry Potter," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Do not walk away when I'm talking to you!"

He stopped and turned on the bottom step. Again, he'd done as he was told, and he hated it. "Mrs. Weasley, I'm sorry that I can't explain things properly. But it's Ginny's birthday, and I'm leaving tomorrow. I need to make things right with her."

"You'll speak to Arthur when he gets home from work."

"If you like," Harry told her.

Ginny was still angry when Harry pushed her bedroom door open. She had a bag open on her bed and she was piling clothes and things in it.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Wherever you are. I won't be left behind."

"Ginny."

"No!" she erupted. "I won't hear it! I can't bear to hear you tell me again how much you wish it was different. So make it different! Take me with you!"

"You're not of age," he quietly reminded.

"I don't care!"

"But I do!" Harry insisted. "I care! Too bleeding much, I care!"

"Tell me you love me!" she challenged. "Admit it!"

He could. He could say the words and leave her with that, and disappear in the morning. He could throw her on the bed and make love to her now, and steal whatever happiness she still had along with her virginity. Yes, he could do it because he was leaving, and he'd never have to deal with the aftermath. And, it would be so easy to lose himself in her, to tell himself that it would be their only chance, and the he should seize it, treasure it, because if he didn't, he would most certainly die a virgin.

But she wasn't his to take or mark or claim. And it was her birthday. How could he leave her with that on her birthday?

She screeched in frustration. "Bloody noble Harry Potter!" She grabbed the rolls of clothes from the bag and pelted Harry with socks and knickers. "Stupid, bloody wanker! Coward! You're a coward, Harry Potter!"

He let her hit him because he deserved it. And, well, because it didn't hurt and he didn't want her to remember that she could hex him faster than he could cast a Shield Spell to protect himself.

"Tell me I'm wrong, then!" she yelled. "Tell me you don't love me! Tell me I'm a damn fool for believing in you! For never giving up on you!"

"Ginny." It was just her name said on a plea, but it set her off. She lunged at him with her fists, and hit him so hard it knocked him back against the door, slamming it shut. He had to grab her wrists and hold them tight to keep her from pummeling him. Who knew she was so bleeding strong?

She had tears in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Of course she wouldn't. Ginny Wealsey didn't cry. "I hate you, Harry. Sometimes I really do!"

Part of him wished it were true. It would make everything so much easier.

Then she kissed him. He wasn't prepared for it. She tugged her arms down with such force it pulled him closer, and she ground her mouth against his, roughly crushing their lips together. When he gasped in surprise her tongue pushed into his mouth, and her groan sent tingles of life through his body. His arms went around her, his hands smoothed over the back of her shirt. She was so warm, so wonderfully solid. In his dreams she always seemed to evaporate before he could get a good hold on her. Now she was real, and she felt so good.

With her hands free she reached up between them and grabbed his head, forced him even closer. She pressed her body against him, her pelvis against his. Her leg twined around his, and his hands slipped down to her rear to pull her against him. The pressure was amazing. He wanted more.

But before he could manage anything further she pushed him away, crossed her arms in front of her, and her t-shirt flew through the air. Harry's lungs stopped working. Her breasts…her bra. He couldn't look away.

She stepped closer, took his hands in hers, and placed his them over her breasts. She helped him squeeze. They were full, soft, heavy. His body responded with a heavy heaviness of its own. He wanted to see them. He ran a finger over the hard tip still hidden behind cloth, and she sucked in a breath. He wanted to kiss her there.

"Show me," he growled. His voice sounded foreign, and it felt like it was coming from someone else, somewhere else.

While he fondled, she reached behind her back and the bra went slack. The fabric fell away. Her nipples were the darkest, sweetest pink he'd ever seen, larger than the pad of his thumb, and the tips were hard little berries of flesh. She closed her eyes when he brushed them with the slightest of touches. She shivered, licked her lips.

He kissed her again, hungrily, and clutched her naked breast. Need throbbed, and tight coils shot through his pelvis, begging for some kind of release. His head buzzed, his hands shook. The bed was there, and Harry pushed her down on to it. Her legs locked around his middle, and he found himself once again in that lovely position he'd discovered in the garden.

Nails scraped over his scalp as his tongue plunged into her mouth to play against hers. She rocked beneath him, his body lurched. Her fingers went to his neck, his shoulders. They played down his back and over his ribs. He kissed her jaw and neck. His left hand pressed against the bed frame to keep him from crushing her, and the other was up the leg of her shorts, under her knickers, kneading her bum. Her breasts were so lovely. He ducked his head and closed his mouth around one.

Her reaction was strong and immediate. Her hands shot inside the back of his pants, and her nails dug painfully into his rear – a sweet pain. His hips bucked reflexively, and he grew even harder, but he wouldn't give up her nipple. He licked the tip into his mouth, played his tongue over it, scraped it with his teeth. She thrust up beneath him, moaned in pleasure. When her hands slipped out of his shorts, he gasped as they left him.

"Touch me," he urged. Or begged. He wasn't above begging.

"Kiss me," she commanded. He obeyed.

He moved back to her mouth, and kissed her hard with his lips and tongue. Over and over his mouth found hers, in lovely wet smacks. Her fingers played over his stomach, inched lower, over muscles and skin. The button of his jeans gave way, the zipper whispered open. He could barely register the warnings his brain was shouting, because he could shag her. Shag her and leave her, and be gone by morning.

No.

"Ginny," he whispered, gasping for breath. He let go of her bum and stilled her hands. "Ginny, stop."

A finger brushed over the bare tip of him, and he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. He whimpered as his body gave an involuntary thrust. "Oh, Merlin…"

"Show me," she said. It was more of a request than a command. "I want to see."

How could he deny her after she'd shown him? How could he deny her at all?

He rolled a little to one side opening the space between their bodies. She peeled away the flaps of his fly and pressed the waist of his shorts down. His erection bobbed a little, now free, in all its dusky red glory. She ran a finger over the crown, and Harry had to close his eyes. A light touch underneath, down to the base. Her nails raked through the patch of black hair that left a trail back up to his belly. And then her whole hand was around him, squeezing, testing his resolve, which was about to fail. Harry grabbed her hand and pinned it above her head on the mattress.

"Bloody hell." Both Harry and Ginny looked up to see Charlie standing in the door. "It's like you two want an audience!" Charlie turned his head and crossed his arms. "All right. Harry, get off of her and zip up. Ginny, get dressed."

Harry looked back down at Ginny with regret.

"I love you," she whispered.

Harry was rubbish. He was a worthless bastard. If Charlie hadn't walked in, he would have shagged the hell out of her, even after he'd told himself that he couldn't do that to her on her_ bleeding birthday_!

He pushed himself up, and turned to stuff himself back inside his denims. He heard her stand with a rustle of fabric.

"Harry," she began, but Charlie cut her off.

"Come along, Harry. It's time we had that talk with Ron, isn't it? Should've had it ages ago from the look of things, but well…let's go."

Ginny caught his hand and stopped Harry before he could leave. Guilt ate at him, burned in his chest. He couldn't look her in the eye. He'd failed her. Betrayed her, and she didn't even know it.

"I'm sorry," slipped from his mouth.

He followed Charlie up the narrow stairs, feeling like a man condemned being led to the Tower. What would Ron say? Surely Charlie would have to tell him what he'd just walked in on. How else would he explain the sudden need to talk about sex stuff with them? He'd never be able to look his best mate in the eye, either.

Charlie knocked. "Ron," he said, and then pushed the door open.

Hermione yelped and rolled, completely starkers, off Ron. She pulled the pillow from under his head to cover her body. Ron, rolled, too, and grabbed for his jeans that had been crumpled on the floor.

"Get out!" he bellowed. Harry was already out and halfway down the stairs.

Oh, Merlin. Oh bloody, bloody Merlin! Hermione was starkers on top of Ron! And he'd seen her baps! He'd seen all over her! Even between her legs! Oh, Merlin! And Ron, he'd seen him, too! It was horrible! Surely he'd have nightmares for weeks. Months! Why was Hermione on top? Wasn't the bloke supposed to be on top? And why the bloody hell did Ron have to be so big? Or was it that Harry was small?

"Oh, for the love of - get dressed!" Charlie hurried down and stopped Harry with a heavy hand to his shoulder. "Not so fast, you. Hermione, get dressed. I'm kicking you out. I need to have a chat with these two."

"Shit," griped Ron. "Why didn't you _Impervius_ the door?"

"Me?" Hermione shrieked. "Why didn't you? It's your door!"

"Yes, in the future, please _Impervius_. Please," Charlie said. "I beg of you."

"Are you going to tell Mum and Dad?" Ron asked.

"Mum and Dad? You think that's the worst thing that could happen, do you? That Mum and Dad would find out?" Charlie shook his head in disgust. "If you're not ready to tell your parents, Ron, you're certainly not ready to bag a bird. Oh, sorry, Hermione."

She glared at Charlie as she fled down the stairs, while purposely avoiding Harry's gaze. He sighed and followed Charlie into the room. She couldn't met is eyes now, but just wait until she talked to Ginny, then he'd have the full force of her glare on him. She might even help Ginny hex him. And he might just let them.

Ron was still scrambling to dress himself, and Harry was already wishing he'd been faster down the stairs. Charlie _Impervius_ them in. Harry hung back by the door and feigned interest in some pictures of racing brooms Ron had pinned to the wall.

"Don't know why you had to ruin that. I'd never do that to you," Ron grumbled at his brother as he yanked a t-shirt over his head. "Do you have any idea what it will take to get her naked again?"

"My guess is, not much," Charlie said, and he dropped down on Harry's bed, and crossed his legs.

"'_Not much_,'" Ron mocked. "I spent hours last night trying to get her to take her top off – just her top!" Then he realized Harry was there, and he threw him an apologetic shrug.

Just wait, Harry thought. He wouldn't be quite so apologetic when he knew that Harry had been with his sister with the exact same intent in mind.

Charlie chuckled. "I didn't even know you two were dating. You are dating, aren't you?" he asked Ron, but gave Harry a hard look.

"Oh, sure. I asked her three days ago. I still can't believe she said yes."

"Three days?" Charlie asked. "And you're all readying shagging?"

"Not shagging, no! We would be, no thanks to the likes of you!"

Charlie shook his head. "It's too fast. Give the relationship some time to breath."

"I've known her six years," Ron whined. "How long did you wait before you shagged your first girlfriend?"

Charlie looked at him, then Harry. "We're talking about you, not me-"

"Oh, no!" Ron said, a grin replacing the irritation on his face. He'd inadvertently found an in with Charlie and he wasn't about to let his advantage go to waste. "We're talking about you. How old were you your first time? Who was she? How long did you wait? How long did it last?"

"You don't want to know," Charlie told him.

"I do! We do! Don't we Harry?"

Harry wasn't sure. He was fairly certain that he knew who Charlie's first was, and if he was right, Harry really didn't want to know. After all, he saw Tonks quite a bit through the Order…although that was about to change, wasn't it? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if there weren't any specifics.

"No names," Harry said. "Just… hypotheticals."

Charlie gave him an amused grin. "Hypotheticals, then."

"So, how old were you?" Ron asked. He was on the edge of his bed, leaning over his knees much like Hermione did during a lesson she found particularly exciting. Was it possible they were more alike that Harry realized? Or had they just spent so much time together that they'd picked up some of each other's quirks?

"I was hypothetically sixteen."

"Oh," said Ron. He seemed disappointed. "Sixth year, then?"

"And, hypothetically, we weren't dating when it happened."

"What?" Ron asked, outraged. "You didn't date her?"

"Well…" Charlie thought for a moment. "It wasn't planned, that first time, anyway. We were great friends already, and it was late, and the common room fire was quite cozy-"

"In the common room!" Ron made a disgusted face.

"And then the next night, well that wasn't an accident at all. And then the next night, I said that would be the end of it unless she agreed to be my girlfriend. I laid down the line."

"And?" Ron pressed.

"And we shagged for the better part of a month before I got her to date me. And then we started fighting all the time, one row after another, and then we stopped shagging all together and broke up."

This seemed to startle Ron. "You broke up?"

"Hypothetically." Charlie shrugged a little. "It happens."

"But…but didn't you love her?"

"She was my best mate. So, yeah. I still do. But it wasn't a romantic love."

Ron swallowed. He looked a little sick. "So…you dated your best mate and then broke it off? Did she ever speak to you again?"

Charlie laughed. "Whenever I'm in town! Don't worry. Just because it didn't work out with my first hypothetical girlfriend doesn't mean it won't work out with yours. But you should slow it down some. Get good at the snogging before you move on to the hand jobs, then get good at that before you move on to anything more serious. Stretch it out some. Enjoy it."

"Oh, she's not my first girlfriend." Ron looked as if he was considering Charlie's every word. "All right, then. What about your next girlfriend? How long did you wait with her?"

"I didn't shag the next one."

"Then the one after that?"

"Nope. Don't look so confused, Ron. You don't have to sleep with every bird who crosses your path. I was a little wand shy after that first girl, and I took my own advice. I let things go slow. I had four more girlfriends while I was at Hogwarts, and I didn't sleep with any of them."

"You're kidding," Ron said.

"I know. It wasn't always easy. I mean, they were lovely girls with lovely bodies, and I was a teenage bloke, so really, they didn't even need to be lovely – just breathing would've been enough. It damn near killed me, but I waited."

"For what?" Ron asked.

"For number six."

"Number six," Ron said reverently. "Who was she?" Harry thought he knew. Judging from the half-smile on Charlie's distant face, hypothetical number six had to be the woman called Esmerelda. But Charlie didn't answer right away. He stared up at the sloping ceiling for a while, and Ron gave Harry a he's-lost-his-marbles sort of look.

"I met number six the night Dumbledore came and told me of the rumors out of Eastern Europe. Rumors about You-Know-Who. He asked if I would go to Romania and be his eyes and ears there."

"But…" Harry couldn't help but ask, "But you went to study dragons, didn't you? To work with them?"

"And I did," Charlie said emphatically. "I love dragons. I love all magical creatures, really. But I was there first and foremost as Order. I am Order. I'd already given my oath."

"And the bird – number six – she went with you?" Ron pushed. "How long before you asked her to go with you?"

"You know," Charlie said thoughtfully, "I don't think I ever asked."

Ron's jaw dropped. So did Harry's, after all the hassle he'd received about messing with Ginny and not dating her.

"Relax, the both of you. She was certainly my girlfriend. I just don't remember every actually asking."

"So, how long before you did it, then?" Ron asked.

"Oh, that first night."

"What?" Harry and Ron said at once.

"I know, I know. But it was…I met her and Merlin, she was stunning. And what a bitch! She was bossy and opinionated, and she took ridiculous risks. We met up with three Death Eaters that night – well, all right, they weren't Death Eaters so much as drunk Purebloods with a vendetta, but there was a fight. A small fight in hind-sight, but it was my first real duel, and Mere stood there taunting them, just asking for them to curse her! And I'm standing there thinking, 'This bird's insane! What has Dumbledore set me up with?' I ended up putting a Muffle Charm on her just to shut her the hell up!" He chuckled to himself. "Of course, that didn't go over well. She hexed the hell out of me afterward. I still have a couple of scars from that night – all of them from her. And the row that followed: hours and hours of yelling. But it was always like that with her, wasn't it?" He was thoughtful for a moment, and then answered his own question. "No. Not always."

"But…" Ron looked confused. "But you shagged?"

"Oh, yeah. Right there in the woods. Up against a tree."

"A tree?"

"Well, the first time. Then, when he both came to, again on the ground. And then again, in the lake."

"Lake?"

"Well, it might've been a pond. Honestly, I wasn't paying attention. It was hot, though, I remember that. Steaming. And there was an odor. Have you ever seen a hot springs? But the night was so bitterly cold, and she was naked, so I didn't mind. We were in there until the sun came up."

"But, you'd just met her!" Ron insisted.

"Yeah." Charlie sighed. "Those were crazy days."

The next obvious question was how long had it lasted? And what happened? Ron didn't ask, though, and Harry wasn't about to - though, he was curious now. He'd seen first hand what Charlie's number six had done to him. Charlie had looked like rubbish when he'd arrived that morning after not being able to find her, and the afternoon he'd confronted Tonks he'd been wild. What kind of witch could do that to a wizard like Charlie? After all, Charlie had just found Harry about to shag his sister, and Harry still had all his teeth. It wasn't like he had much of a temper.

Ron was staring thoughtfully at his clasped hands, and Harry knew he was thinking about Hermione. And again, Harry thought how peculiar it felt that his two best friends had fallen for each other. They'd been through so much, the three of them. They'd fought each other and battled together on the same side, they'd all suffered losses, been wounded - Ron still had nightmares from time to time of the battle at the Ministry, and he wore the scars on his arms as a physical reminder. They were close, the three of them, so really, Harry reckoned, it was no wonder that Ron's attention had been caught by Hermione. The real question was: why hadn't Harry's? Hermione was a lovely girl, and now that he'd seen her starkers…

Harry sighed. No. She wasn't Ginny. He would do anything for Hermione, but…but she wasn't Ginny.

"So," Charlie said, sitting up. "Crazy days brings us back to why I've locked the both of you in here. Birth control."

"Bugger," Ron muttered.

"Yeah, you were about to," Charlie said, "and what had you done about birth control?"

Ron's eyes went wide. "Er…"

"Right, Daddy Ron. Pull out your potions kit, and let's get started."

* * *

Supper that night wasn't as awkward as Harry had expected. Ron and Hermione weren't making lovey-dovey eyes at each other or giving any hints that their relationship had changed all that much. They were still Ron and Hermione, quietly bickering while the rest of the room sang Happy Birthday to Ginny.

Seeing Ginny hadn't been uncomfortable, either, which was good, Harry decided, even if Neville was seated next to her at the table and Harry was down at the other end next to Fred and George. Who had invited Neville, anyway? Neville Longbottom? Sure, he was a decent bloke and all, but it wasn't like he was her boyfriend, or anything. Wasn't inviting him to Bill's wedding enough?

She had received two owls that day. Charlie had fed and coddled both after weathering the storm outside, and they still sat on a perch near the door as a constant reminder that Ginny had once dated Michael Corner and Dean Thomas, and the fact she'd snogged them both. Harry tried to be all right with that. After all, she wasn't his girlfriend, and he'd be leaving soon, so he didn't have any claim on her at all. And he'd snogged Cho…although that wasn't quite right. He'd kissed Cho. Once. And she'd cried.

But he wasn't all right with it. He didn't want to think about Ginny kissing other blokes. He didn't want to imagine their hands on her, touching her breasts. Had they seen her nipples? Harry still couldn't believe that he had. He'd even licked them. Oh, Merlin…

Elbows on the table Harry stared down at his cake and tried to will his body to relax. At least he had the table to hide his excitement. Breathe, he told himself. And suddenly the slice of cake in front of him looked sexy. And so did the smooth, white plate it sat on. And his fork – why was he getting harder? Who found forks sexy? He opened his eyes and Hermione was looking at him, and he couldn't sit at the table any more.

Harry jumped up as inconspicuously as he could manage, hoping speed would cover the bulge in the front of his jeans. Two flights of stairs to the loo, and he was able to lock himself in. He opened his fly and stared down. What the hell was wrong with him?

He'd been in a mild state of arousal ever since he left Ginny half-naked that morning, and everything that he'd seen or heard since seemed to make it worse. Hermione starkers was a big shock, and the image of her in _that_ position keep popping into Harry's head at the worst possible times, like when ever she spoke. Or moved. He'd recognized Hermione as a girl for a couple of years now, and had long ago come to terms with the fact that she was pretty. But actually seeing her knockers, seeing how her stomach slipped down into that thick, dark patch of hair, actually seeing her legs spread wide and around another body…it was sexy. And it shouldn't be, because she was his friend, and he didn't feel that way about her. He didn't. He didn't.

Seeing Ginny's lovely breasts didn't bother him as much, and that didn't make a switch of sense. He'd even kissed them, sucked on them, and still it was Hermione's body that haunted him. He could happily think of Ginny now, and long for her perfect, round breasts with nipples that pointed a little toward the sky, and their smooth, soft undersides with that amazing crease where her breasts met her chest. Ginny's breasts were bigger than Hermione's, rounder, and they didn't torment him. It was as if seeing Hermione had been wrong, and seeing Ginny had been…

But what he did with Ginny had been wrong, hadn't it? He couldn't be with her. He was meant to be alone. Shut up in the loo, Harry wrapped his hand around himself the way she had, and he closed his eyes. He thought about her fingers gripping him tight. He shouldn't have let her touch him. He shouldn't have tasted her breast. It wasn't just the taste of her, though, was it? It was the feel. The feel of her nipple against his bottom lip. The feel of her solid breast against his cheek, and her strong thighs wrapped around him. Merlin, he was so close…so very close. What would it have taken to push her knickers down? Nothing. And then he would've slid home.

Harry clenched, pulled a towel from beside the lav. He just needed to get it over with, and then collect his things and go. He couldn't think clearly at the Burrow anylonger. Even the feel of the towel was sexy. Her fingers, he told himself. Her hand on him. Her legs around him, her nipple in his mouth, rolled in his tongue, tucked between his teeth.

He grunted as he reached completion, and leaned heavily against the lav as relief and pleasure coursed through him. It took a blissful minute for him to catch his breath. He sank down to his knees.

There was a sharp knock that followed Hermione's voice. "Harry? Are you in there? Are you sick? Harry, answer me!"

"I'm using the loo," he called. "Go away."

"I'll wait," he heard her say.

Bloody Merlin, Hermione! Did she ever do as he asked? And again, her knockers flashed through his head. Why did he think about them when he didn't want to think about them? He was depraved. Sick.

He forced himself to his feet. He cleaned up and zipped up all without looking in the mirror.

"Are you all right?" she asked once he opened the door.

"Fine," he said, and he walked past her, up the stairs. She followed. "Go back to the party, Hermione."

"Come with me," she said.

"I'm not needed there. I don't know why I even stayed. I've only managed to mess things up even worse."

"How's that?" she asked.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Surely, she knew. She'd gone straight from Ron's room to Ginny's that morning, hadn't she? Wasn't that what girls did? Didn't they talk about everything? Although, maybe…maybe Ginny didn't. Hermione had seemed surprised when Harry told her that Ginny had said, "I love you," to him. Surprised and happy. How would she be if he told her that he'd almost stolen Ginny's virginity?

"Go back to the party, Hermione," he said again, and grabbed his pajamas from his bed, wadded them in a big ball, and tossed them in his pack. Then, he thought better of it. He needed to pack light, take only the essentials. What would he need with pajamas? He would most likely be roughing it, and pajamas were for beds. He dumped out the entire pack and began to sort two piles. Essentials and leave-behinds.

"Harry, stop for a moment. I want to talk to you."

"I'm listening," he said. Toothbrush, hair brush, socks, jeans…

Hermione sighed, and he heard her drop down on to Ron's bed. He closed his eyes against the image of her pointy, light brown nipples. "Harry, where do you think you're going? Godric's Hollow? Do you know where it is?"

"East," he told her.

"East? You mean the direction? You're just going to fly east?"

"It's a place to start."

"Harry, that's crazy! You don't even have your Apparation license."

"I'm going to fly."

"Everywhere?" she asked. "For the rest of your life?"

"I hate Apparating."

"Harry, what you're going to do, it's dangerous. You know better than anyone that you're going to need every possible advantage at your disposal to find the remaining Horcuxes and avoid capture by the Death Eaters - or worse - and then destroy Voldemort. You need your license, or you're going to be picked up by the Ministry the first time you have to Apparate yourself out of a scrape."

"There's no time," he argued. "I need to leave now."

"Ron needs his license, too."

"Then Ron can get his license. I have to go alone, anyway."

"But why?"

"I just do!"

She glared at him. "You just have to? Is that like you just can't date Ginny? Because you haven't been very successful at not being her boyfriend."

"Shut it! You don't know what you're talking about!" He'd never yelled at her before, and she looked startled. He had to turn away. "This is none of your business," he said quiter.

"No, it's not. Sorry. It was a terrible thing to say."

"Yes, it was," Harry snapped.

"I've said I'm sorry!" Hermione said, exasperated.

"It's just…you don't know. I…" He collapsed down on his bed and hung his head. "I tried to bag her. This morning. I'm the worst sorry sod-"

"Oh, Harry, you're not!"

"I'm leaving, Hermione! I knew I was leaving, and still I…if Charlie hadn't come in when he did, I would've taken her virginity!"

"And she would've taken yours! Seems to me to be an even trade."

Harry couldn't believe she'd just said that. Was that really Hermione? "Even? Are you mad? She's a girl-"

"She's a young witch who loves a young wizard."

"So…so, you're saying I should've bagged her?"

"Well, we weren't playing wizard's chess when you and Charlie happened in this morning," she quipped. "And I can tell you I was working just as hard as Ron to shed my virginity. Strike that. I was working a helluva lot harder."

Harry shook his head, cradled in his hands. "This isn't happening."

"Oh, come on, Harry. Sex isn't a bad thing. Not when you love them."

"But…but…I'm _leaving_!"

"So you've said. No, you listen for once. You _need_ your license. Running off today because of what happened this morning – or didn't happen – is childish and weak. You need to square things with Ginny, and you need to get your license."

"But-"

"I'm right, and you know it!" she insisted. "Mr. Weasley can make the test appointments tomorrow morning when he goes in to work. Then how long will it be? A week? Two at the most."

"Two bloody weeks! No way! I'll never survive two weeks in this house with her!"

"Oh, don't be dramatic. Of course you'll survive. And, that will give us two more weeks to discover where Godric's Hollow is. East is a little vague, you must admit."

"East is a very good direction," Harry muttered.

"As directions go, perhaps." Hermione inhaled and pinned him with a stern look. "Promise me, Harry."

"No."

"Promise you'll help Ron get his license, and I'll promise to do what I can to keep you from going off the deep end with Ginny."

"Oh, no, you want me to bag her!"

"Hardly. I just don't understand your reluctance. Your sacrifice is hers, too. And I think – don't you think it'll be nice?"

"Nice?" Harry's head began to throb.

"Now, promise me, so we can go back down and have some cake."

"Fine. Two weeks. But that's it, Hermione. I'm not having this conversation with you again. Two bloody weeks and I'm gone. _End of_."

"Fine, then." She wasn't looking at him when she said it, but at the Chudley Cannons poster on the opposite wall. The edges were curled up and the players were only performing half the maneuvers they did when Harry had first seen the poster. They were getting old. In a couple of years the charm would wear out and the players wouldn't move at all.


	7. Chapter 6 Revelations

Part 1 – Summer

Chapter 6 - Revelations

The owls came over breakfast two weeks later. Hedwig made straight for Ginny, as she was still quite miffed at Harry and refused to even let him stroke her plumage or take an offered owl treat from him. Harry had done his best to apologize, but it was difficult to be continually rebuked by a bird, and anyway, he'd be leaving soon and he reckoned it was best that she stay bonded with Ginny.

Two barn owls carried sealed letters for Hermione and Harry, and a third dropped a thick envelope in front of Charlie. Harry recognized the seal immediately. Ron's Pigwidgeon missed the window entirely and Ron had to go out to retrieve him.

"It's from Hogwarts," Ron said as he sat back down at the table with Pig in his lap. He tore his letter open.

Something fell out of Hermione's, and it clonked heavily on the table. She held up a small badge, clearly shocked. It was bronze, and had the letters HG on it. Hermione Granger had made Head Girl. Congratulations flew all around, and Mrs. Weasley even got up to give her an extra helping of eggs. Hermione didn't look as thrilled as Harry would've imagined. In fact, she looked a little sick.

Harry shoved his own letter under the table, not feeling so right himself. Had he made Head Boy, like his father? It was a double-edged sword either way. He tried to tell himself it didn't matter, that he wasn't going back so _it didn't matter_. But somehow it did. Would his father have been proud? Disappointed? Would he understand Harry's decision not to graduate?

Ginny looked down the parchment tucked neatly inside her letter. "Mum, the book list is double last year's! And these look like new books." She handed her list to Ron, who concurred. She wouldn't be able to use his hand-me-downs.

"Don't worry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. She offered a reassuring smile. "We'll manage. We always do."

Hermione was still staring at her Head Girl badge. Ron, beside her, gently took it out of her hand and slipped it back into the envelope. They still thought they were going with him, Harry realized. He would have to set the record straight that night after the Apparition test at the Ministry, and before Hermione could do something silly like return the badge with a note saying she wouldn't be attending.

Another owl flew through the window, getting feathers in the beans. It hopped on the table toward Mr. Weasley, who took the parchment from it, and placed a coin in the small pouch attached to its leg. "Ridiculous birds the _Prophet_ has working for it now!" Mr. Weasley complained. "They're cutting corners all around!"

Harry could see the headline as it scrawled: HOGWARTS TO OPEN 1 SEPT: BRAVERY OR MADNESS FOR NEW HEADMISTRESS?

"Oh, look here," Mr. Weasley said as he read from the front page. "Minerva is to be the new Headmistress. Yes, that sounds right. Hmm…oh, yes, here it is. '…decision was made late last night that Minerva McGonagall, the former Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry will have complete autonomy over the hiring of whichever positions currently remain open at the school, a Ministry official assured, provided she is able to do so by midnight thirty August, at which time the Ministry will appoint any vacant positions with suitable professors.'"

"The thirtieth!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "That's tomorrow!"

"What positions are vacant?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Well, Defense Against the Dark Arts," Ron said around a piece of buttered toast. "But even Dumbledore had a time filling that one. Wonder who she'll ask."

"And Transfiguration," Ginny offered. "Stands to reason that the Headmistress won't be teaching any longer."

"But who would fill that post?" Harry asked. What was Transfigurations without Professor McGonagall? It didn't seem right that someone else would do it. And, who would be the new Head of Gryffindor?

Mr. Weasley raised his brows in shared doubt. "Suppose we'll know tomorrow, won't we? I wonder if that means Minerva won't be attending the meeting this evening."

"She'll be there," Charlie said, absently as he read through his own long roll of parchment.

"You haven't opened your letter," Ginny said quietly to Harry. "Aren't you even curious?"

"About what?" Harry said. "It's just a Hogwarts letter."

"What if you made Head Boy?"

"I didn't."

"How do you know?"

"I just do." Harry folded the letter and shoved it in his pocket.

She didn't press him as Hermione probably would have, had she been aware of anyone else at the table besides Ron. The two of them were making a show of eating, but their attention was focused on each other, and the shy smiles they exchanged. And now that he thought about it, Harry couldn't remember the last time he saw them row. It had to have been a week at least.

Charlie got up from the table.

"Off again, dear?" his mother asked. "Work for the Order, is it?"

"No, not as such," he said cryptically, and tucked his letter into his pocket.

"Oh," said Mrs. Weasley, clearly disappointed with his lack of candor. "Well…your father has been asking about when you think to return to Romania."

Mr. Weasley seemed surprised at this revelation.

Charlie smirked. "Trying to get rid of me, Mum?"

"Of course not," she said. "We just worry…won't you lose your position if you're gone too long?"

"It's been arranged," Charlie told her.

"Arranged? What's been arranged?"

"It's all right, Mum. My position is safe, and so is your house. I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow-"

"Oh, stay!" Mrs. Weasley urged. "Stay as long as you like. You know you're welcome! You'll always have a home here!"

"I know," he assured her.

She cupped his cheek and then kissed it. "Only do your old mum a favor and shave, won't you? You're all patchy. You look like a beggar."

"When I get back," Charlie assured. He kissed her cheek and left.

"Where does that one go?" Mrs. Weasley wondered aloud. Then she turned a stern eye on Ginny. "Has he told you anything?"

Ginny shook her head. Mrs. Weasley turned away, but Harry wasn't so deceived. What did she know? What would make her lie to her mother?

"Stop staring," Ginny said.

"What is it?" Harry whispered. "What did he tell you?"

She shivered a little. "Later," she said. Her gaze caught his and Harry found it impossible to look away. There it was again - that connection. He couldn't think of any other way of describing it. When he looked in her eyes he felt as if they were sharing something no one else could see; something only they could understand. The urge to kiss her became so profound Harry began to sweat. He pushed himself from the table as a last act of self-preservation, and fled up the stairs. By the time he made it to Ron's room his head was pounding, and he had trouble catching his breath.

"You all right, mate?" It was Ron, hovering at the door to give Harry space. "What happened? Is it your scar?"

"My what? Oh. No." It must've looked odd to see Harry flee the breakfast table. "I'm good."

"Well, that's a relief," Ron said. He pulled his robes from the back of his door, and handed Harry's to him as well. "Any disturbing dreams? You know, like the one you had of my dad at the Ministry that time?"

"Uh…no." Harry eyed his friend. Ron didn't seem concerned, but if he was asking these kinds of questions, he must be. "Really, I'm good," Harry assured him.

"Oh. Well, good. You'd tell me, though. Wouldn't you? If there was something?"

"Of course," Harry said. Wouldn't he? He always had, hadn't he? Eventually?

"Because, it could be important." Then Ron stepped in the room and shut the door. When he turned and met Harry's gaze, his expression was grim. "She's going with us. I've tried to talk her out of it, but she's right. We do need her."

"What are you…? I told Ginny no!" Harry said.

"Hermione," Ron said. "We're going to be in scrapes like we were at the Ministry. Worse, even." He ran a hand over his arm, and the scars left by those brain things. "She almost died, Harry. If she hadn't thrown a Silencing Charm on that Death Eater, he would've killed her. Or, if she'd missed, or if it hadn't been strong enough…she would've died." Ron looked sick, looked up at the ceiling. "It would've been devastating if she'd died then, Harry. I don't know if I would've gotten over it. But now…if I lost her now…Harry…"

"I know," Harry said.

"You don't!" Ron insisted. "You couldn't possibly! You and Ginny – well, I don't claim to understand that – but it's not the same. You don't feel what I feel!"

That surprised Harry. "How do you know?"

"When she smiles do you feel it in your belly? Do you want to touch her so much the bottom of your tongue itches? What would you do for her? I'd do anything – anything for her! And it scares me, Harry. Because I'm terrified she's going to wake up one morning and wonder what she's doing with a wanker like me, and go off and find someone better. Someone smarter or good-looking. An international Quidditch star, or someone with money who can give her everything she wants. Or, what if something happens to her? What if she throws a Silencing Charm that's not strong enough? What if I'm not fast enough, or powerful enough to Shield her?"

Was that what it felt like to be in love? Constant fear? Harry worried about Ginny, but not all the time. She was brutal in a fight, and if anyone could hold their own it was her. Of course, that wasn't going to stop Harry from leaving her behind, was it? She was safer without him. And he had to keep her safe. Maybe that's what it meant to love someone – to be willing to leave them behind. Harry didn't know.

"What about…" Harry began but hesitated, unsure he really wanted to share with Ron so openly. It was his sister, after all, and Harry didn't think Ron had the distance from Ginny that Charlie did.

"What about what?"

"Er…never mind."

Ron shook his head. "I won't lose her, Harry. I won't. And if you're keeping secrets for whatever reason, and something happens to her…well, you're my best mate, Harry, and we've been through a lot together, but that's not something we could ever come back from. Ever."

Harry thought he understood. If something happened to Ginny, he didn't know what he would do.

"Would you kill for her?" Harry asked quietly.

"In a heart beat."

"Then it is the same, and I do understand."

Ron considered him. "Yeah, maybe it is." He dropped down on to the edge of his bed. "Have you…you know…done it? Yet?"

"Uh…"

"Because," Ron continued despite Harry's reluctance to answer, "we have. We did it. And if you haven't yet, then…there are some things you should know."

An odd sound buzzed in Harry's ears as his brain rebelled. They'd done it! They'd slept together! Ron and Hermione had done _it_! Harry didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't get the image of Hermione sitting starkers on top of Ron…of his hands on her breasts and her legs folded on either side of him…

"Oh, bloody hell," Harry moaned. He didn't want to know this. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes to try to force the memory away. Red stars burst behind his eyelids.

"Hey, mate, I know," Ron said in sympathy, "but I wish someone had told me…you know, before, so there are some things you should know."

"Ron, stop," Harry pleaded.

"So…then…you have? She's not a virgin anymore?" Ron was looking at his knees. At least Harry had the satisfaction of knowing this was awkward for Ron, as well. "I thought maybe…because you're not officially dating her…I could tell you in time, only I didn't know how to bring it up. It's not really something that just comes out, you know. _Oi, Harry! I've bagged Hermione_-"

"We haven't," Harry said just to shut him up. Was that what Ron wanted to hear? Would he stop now?

"Oh. All right, then." Ron took a deep breath and Harry thought that would be the end of it. His relief was short lived. "When girls are virgins…they're tight. Down there. More than I expected. And there's this barrier, and you sort of have to break through it, you know, with your cock."

Harry couldn't look at him. Why did he say cock? Why was he still talking? What would Ron do if he cast a Muffle Spell on him? Because Ron didn't look like he had any intention of stopping on his own.

"You've heard of it? Of how it hurts them? Well, I had, and I didn't realize just how much it hurts. A lot. I thought that once I was, you know - in there - it would be easy in, easy out –"

"You hurt her?" Harry couldn't keep the accusation from his voice.

Ron nodded. "She cried. I felt like a right bloody bastard."

Harry didn't know what to say. He'd never heard of anything like that. Was that normal? What had he done to her? "She cried? You made her cry?"

"The thing is…I don't think it has to be like that. I think that there's a way to make it better for her. At least that's what George said. And the second go was a bit better-"

"George?" Harry asked. "You talked to him about this?"

"I didn't know what else to do!" Ron practically wailed. "She yelled at me to get off of her, and she got up and ran off, and she was crying, and there was blood – not a lot, but some, and it was awful. I thought maybe I'd popped her, you know, like a bubble or something. I thought maybe she was badly hurt. I mean, how would I explain that at St. Mungo's? _Uh, sorry. Didn't know what I was doing, and I popped my girlfriend_."

"So you went to George?"

"I panicked. Charlie was off somewhere - he's always off somewhere these days - and I couldn't go to Mum!"

Harry tried to figure out just when this might've happened. The only time he could think that they'd been alone was the previous Wednesday down at the lake. Hermione had come back to the house early, but she didn't look upset, and she certainly hadn't been crying. Had she? No, Harry would've noticed something like that. She and Ginny had gone up, then, and Harry had dozed down on the couch. He was supposed to have been researching.

"But, you see, George said if you can get her off first then things are much more relaxed for her…down there. I mean, we all know this, yeah? But, I thought I'd waited long enough - she was all hot and wet, right?"

"I don't want to hear this," Harry bit out. Hermione's breasts kept seeping into his brain, and her bare hips, and her rear straddling a naked lap. "No, no, we shouldn't talk about this stuff. Ever."

"Harry, listen to me. You've got to get her off completely before you try to, you know, push in. The first time it's not enough for her to be slick, because as soon as it hurts her she'll tense up and the lovely wet goes away-"

"Stop!" Harry said, and he stood to leave. Thankfully, his jeans were big enough to hide his budding bulge. Why would this arouse him? He was a perv. He had to get out of there.

"You can use your mouth," Ron said, following him down the stairs. "They like that."

"Shut up," Harry begged.

"On their lady bits," Ron continued without breaking his stride. "You can kiss them down there, and they come off quick. No time at all, really."

"Oh, Merlin, would you shut up?" The last thing he wanted to imagine about was Hermione climaxing and Ron using his mouth. "She's my friend! I don't want to think about her like that!"

Ron grabbed his shoulder and stopped him right there on the stair. "And Ginny's my sister. I don't want to think about you and her either, but this is more important. It was bad enough what happened with me and Hermione-"

"I'm not sleeping with your sister," Harry whispered angrily. Who else could hear them? It wasn't like the Burrow was a large place, or soundproof. "So drop it!"

'"I'm trying to help."

Harry didn't need help sleeping with Ginny. He'd been doing his damnedest to avoid that very thing. "Piss off!" Harry snapped, and came face to face with Hermione, who was just starting up the stair. His eyes immediately dropped.

"Harry?" she asked. "Are you two fighting?"

Harry shook his head. Behind him Ron stammered a weak, "Er…no."

"Right," she said. "Harry, my face is up here."

He felt his cheeks go hot as he realized he'd been staring at her chest. This is Hermione, he reminded himself as he pushed past her. Ron's Hermione. Ron was having sex with Hermione. He needed some air.

Ginny, who'd been in the kitchen, followed him outside. "Good luck on your test," she said. He stopped at the garden gate. Crookshanks was dozing in the sun and a gnome was tip-toeing past him.

"Thanks," Harry grumbled.

"Are you nervous?"

"No." He hated Apparating, but he could do it well enough.

"When are you leaving?" She asked as casually as she had the previous question, but for some reason it carried with it the weight of the world. She didn't mean for the test. She meant _leaving_.

"Soon," he told her.

"Tonight?"

"No." He needed to talk to Hermione and Ron first, and help them understand that they needed to go back to Hogwarts without him. It wasn't going to be an easy conversation.

"Tomorrow?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He couldn't give her the answer she wanted, so he said nothing at all. His heart ached for her.

"Kiss me," she said. Her brown eyes poured into him.

He touched her chin with his thumb and held it in place as he gently brushed his lips over hers once, twice, three times. A feeling of warm contentment settled in the center of his chest. He could kiss her all day.

"Ready to go, Harry?" Mr. Weasley called from the door.

It didn't matter if he was ready or not. It was time.

* * *

The Ministry was alive with activity, and Mr. Weasley led them through the underground maze to the appropriate office. They arrived five minutes before their test was scheduled, and left ten minutes later, each with a folded Apparition license bearing their names. Newly liberated from the world of the non-Apparation, they escorted themselves home.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent much of that afternoon pouring over another pile of books Hermione had produced, though she was cagey when asked where she got them from. That night Mrs. Weasley cooked up a special supper to celebrate Harry and Ron's success that morning, and even baked them a maroon and gold cake with the word CONGRATULATIONS written on it in sparkling blue icing that tingled on his tongue when Harry ate it. Afterwards, they settled back in the living room, Ron on his back on the floor, with his head in Hermione's lap, and Ginny joined them, sitting next to Harry on the couch. As they read, Harry was distracted by Hermione's hand as she absently played with the lock of hair at Ron's temple. Ron nodded off. Harry should've known that they were sleeping together. All the clues were there.

Charlie went out right after pudding, and again dodged questions as to where he was going. Really, he hadn't said much in the last few weeks beyond the causal hello and mention of the weather. He looked distracted much of the time; his easy grins became less and less easy. There had been no sign of whatever it was he'd told his father he'd give up his life for – and after much deliberation with Ginny, Harry decided that it had simply not come to pass. Ginny was less sure, and Harry noticed her tracking her brother's movements through the house whenever he was there.

"He hasn't shaved, and he's worn the same clothes three days in a row," she whispered to Harry. "Have you noticed?"

"I'm not stalking your brother, so no, I've not noticed," Harry told her. Ron grunted in his sleep.

"It's that witch. Esmerelda. The one who showed up at Bill's wedding. I asked him if he had had a row with her, and he said he'd have to find her before he could row with her. I reckon he's looking for her."

"Perhaps," Harry allowed. Though Charlie had been in and out at all times of the day and night for weeks now. Surely he would've found her by now. "Tonks knows where she is, doesn't she?"

"She won't tell him anything. I think she helped Esmerelda disappear."

"Why would she do that?" It didn't sound like Tonks to hide something from Charlie. He was her Secret Keeper, after all. "Aren't she and Charlie good friends?" Charlie had said they were the best of friends. What would Harry do if Hermione were to hide Ginny from him? He couldn't even imagine a scenario that would make her do that.

"I haven't the foggiest."

Ron woke with a jerk, and he reached up to touch Hermione's arm. It was just a finger near her elbow, and still Hermione shivered. She bent her head low, and the two of them began to whisper.

Ginny leaned closer to Harry. "Has he said anything to you?" Ginny asked.

"About what?"

Her tone went flat. "About Esmerelda."

"Uh…well, some. But I didn't know he was looking for her. Why would someone look for someone who doesn't want to be found?"

Ginny's brows rose and she gave him a sad look. "Really?"

Ron stood, then, and pulled Hermione up.

"Hey," said Harry. "Where are you going?"

"Er…getting another book," Ron said. His grin told a different story.

"And Hermione?" Harry asked. Would she lie so causally to him, too?

Hermione only gave him an apologetic shrug. They were leaving him with Ginny. Hermione had promised to provide him a buffer.

When he glanced over at Ginny she gave him a disgusted look. "I'm not going to jump you, so you can breathe, you git."

"What?" he asked defensively. It wasn't like there wasn't precedent.

She just shook her head and went back to her book. And strangely enough Harry wasn't quite as relieved as he thought he should be. She didn't want to snog? Since when? What if this was their last night together? What if he never saw her again? Something deep inside him seize when he considered that possibility. If he never saw her again…shouldn't he kiss her now?

"Harry, why are we looking for Godric's Hollow?" Ginny asked, her gaze still on the page. "Isn't that where your parents were hiding when they were killed?"

"Yeah," he said, and with the mention of his parents, suddenly snogging was the last thing on his mind.

"So, you've been there," she said.

"I was a baby," he said. "I hardly remember."

"But you were there. It's odd, isn't it, that you're looking for a place where the single most life-changing thing happened to you?" She looked up at him now. "Why would you do that? Why now?"

"I want to see my parents' graves. And…and it's where it all started for me." But there was more, wasn't there? More than he'd admitted to Ron and Hermione. Ginny was sitting there, considering him, and Harry thought maybe he could tell her. If there was anyone in the world he could tell it would be Ginny, wouldn't it? If there were anyone who might understand it would be her.

"I need to see it, Ginny. I need to stand in that house and be there where he cut them down. I need to understand why it happened."

She cocked her head to the side. "You know why it happened, Harry. He heard the prophecy, and he tried to stop it from happening."

"It could've been Neville, though. His birthday is the day before mine. Both at the end of July. Why did he choose me? Why did he kill my mum and dad? He could have chosen the Longbottoms, and I'd still have my parents, and I wouldn't be the boy who lived - I'd just be me, and you and I could…" Date. Snog. Shag. Be normal.

"So, you're looking for clues that will tell you why Voldemort does what he does?" Her thin, ginger brows knitted.

"I know it sounds mental," Harry said, and disappointment flooded through him. His cheeks went hot. She didn't understand. No, of course she didn't. He was meant to be alone.

"Even if the house is exactly as it was at that moment sixteen years ago, Harry, what do you expect to find? Voldemort is evil, and your parents were trying to fight him. He killed them because they were a threat to him, and because he reckoned you were one, too. It's not a mystery, Harry. What he did to you, to me, to all of us, it's not something that has to be deciphered. There's no greater meaning there. He's evil, he's maniacal, and he does what he does because he wants power. He loves it. It's his religion. He does what he does because he can. And we do what we do because someone has to stop the bugger."

That was all well and good, but it still didn't change Harry's mind. He wanted to see his parents' grave, to see the house. "I need to go there, Ginny."

"Then we'll go," she said, as if it were just that easy.

"Not we."

She turned back to her book, and Harry thought that was the end of it. He tried to force his attention to his own book, but the words didn't register. Ginny was close, and it had been days since he'd touched her, and even worse - it had been days since she'd touched him. He loved it when she touched him. No one else ever did. Well, Hermione did sometimes, but it was different. It wasn't sexual. No one had ever touched him the way Ginny did. Sometimes her hand rested lightly over his, or she'd run a finger down the front of his arm before it tangled playfully with his finger; her foot might find his under the table; she would ruffle the back of his hair while he hunched over a game of chess with Ron, or a hundred other little touches that could, at any moment, lead to her hands to travel under his shirt, up his ribs and over his tight nipples. Merlin, he loved it when she did that.

And she could touch him from across the room. Four days before she had smiled at him as they played Quidditch out in the orchard - she on her broom and he on his, more than half a court away, and his chest contracted. He'd been trying to get her to smile at him ever since. That was how Harry came to realize that Ginny didn't smile much.

"What about your grandparents?" Ginny asked out of the blue.

"Sorry?" Harry asked.

"Your grandparents. We know they're dead because Dumbledore said your only living relatives were your aunt and uncle, but you had grandparents at one time." She looked thoughtfully at him. "Were they from Godric's Hollow? Why would your parents choose that place?"

"'Dunno," Harry said. "I don't really know anything about them…" A memory of Sirius crouched down with him in front of the drawing room fireplace at number 12 came to mind. Harry couldn't remember what they had talked about, or what had sparked the conversation, but he did remember something his godfather had said. "They – I mean, my grandparents, my father's parents, they took Sirius in. He told me he ran away at sixteen, and dad's mum and dad took him in and treated him like a second son."

"So, Sirius knew them," Ginny said. "Makes sense that Lupin might've known them, too. Or, at least met them. What happened to them? Do you know?"

"No. I didn't think to ask."

Ginny worried her bottom lip. "Bet we could find out, if you want. Do you know their names?"

"No." She seemed a little taken aback, and Harry realized he'd snapped harder than he'd intended. "I mean, no, I don't know their names…and no, I don't want to know what happened to them.

"Oh. All right." She looked back down at her book for a long moment, but Harry could tell she wasn't reading.

"I'm sorry, Gin. I didn't mean to say it like that." What was wrong with him?

She gave him a little nod and reached up, cupped his cheek. A shiver crawled up Harry's back. He'd missed her so very much. Want took over, and he leaned in, and so did she, and their mouths met in the middle. The kiss was tentative this time, and gentle. Harry found himself nipping at her lips, seeking permission. She sighed a little, and he took the advantage, slipping his tongue between her teeth. Her hands went under his shirt as her tongue slowly slipped across his. With a happy groan, she lay back against the couch's arm and pulled him down on top of her. His hand went up her skirt, under her knickers and he squeezed her firm rear. A symphony of want twisted to life. She had such a perfect bum; round and firm.

"I'm taking the Potion," she whispered in his ear, and then kissed it. She suckled his lobe between her teeth. "We can do it. It's all right."

"Ginny," he groaned. "Why do you do this to me?"

"It's your hand in my knickers," she reminded him. She nipped at his jaw.

He squeezed again and his heart jumped when she moaned.

Then, she pushed him up off her. "What?" he asked. He certainly hadn't expected to be shoved away. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispered, and suddenly her hand was in the front of his demins, and wiggling to get inside his pants.

He grabbed her arm to stop her. "Not a good idea," he said through clenched teeth. He throbbed so hard he could hardly breathe.

She kissed his mouth. "Remember the garden?" How could he possibly forget? "I want that again."

"Ginny," he whimpered. Her fingers were reaching, and when she found him, they skimmed across the crown of him. He twitched and bucked, and her hand found a better grip. Harry groaned into her neck. He would never be able to refuse her. "Oh, bloody..."

She touched him tentatively, feeling just about his base, exploring, and Harry, able to breathe a little easier, took to sucking her neck as his fingers slipped up her shirt. He yanked the cloth of her bra down and played with her tight nipple. Her hand became less timid, and she began to stroke.

"Like this?" she asked.

He groaned, and suddenly just fondling her breasts wasn't enough. He shoved her shirt up to her arms and wrapped his mouth over one round, pink nipple. He sucked when she stroked, and flicked his tongue when she teased. Her other hand played roughly through his hair. She squeezed him, and he thrust into her hand. The pressure was building fast.

He reached down again - her skirt was already around her waist – her knickers were damp. He pushed the fabric aside and found warm, soft hair. Her hips thrust up and she gave a soft gasp of surprise. He looked up found her smiling at him.

"Do that again," she whispered. He complied, and she made a small noise in the back of her throat. "Hermione was right. That's lovely."

"Yeah?" he asked.

Her thumb traced over his sensitive tip in response. "Oh, yeah," he groaned.

He played with her thatch of hair and she began to move beneath him, and all the while they kissed with their tongues, and his ears roared with blood and heartbeat and his own garbled groans of pleasure. Then he found heat buried underneath the hair, and wet, and she gave an even more startling cry.

"Don't stop," she urged. "Higher."

He searched higher on her body, but it was difficult to concentrate. Her hand moved frantically over him now, pulling him toward an inevitable end. It became harder to think, harder to move anything but his hips. Her hand left his head and mingled with his between her legs. She nudged his finger to a particular spot.

"Push," she gasped. His finger sank inside her. Hot and wet swallowed him to his knuckle, and he felt her tighten around him. He couldn't even imagine how good that would feel around the part of him she was stroking, but he knew he wanted to find out.

_No, don't even think about it_. Ron's discretionary tail that morning lingered with him even now.

Her fingers slipped up and, with her eyes squeezed shut, she began stoking herself, and Harry thought he was going to die. She was so bloody sexy, and he was so bloody hard.

"Shit," he bit out. The pressure was coming too fast, too hard. "Shit." He pulled his finger out of her, and grabbed her arm, but he came before he could pull her hand from the line of fire. His eyes squeezed shut against the waves of searing pleasure. He grunted, his shaking thighs gave out and he collapsed down on top of her.

Head swimming, Harry tried to blink the fuzziness away. Every cell in his body was sated goo. It had never been like that before. Of course, it had never been with anyone else before, either. Ginny was wonderful. He managed to lift his head enough to smile at her. Her breast was exposed, and their hands rested on her bare belly, both wet and sticky. God, he loved her. It had to be love, didn't it? How could feelings that strong, that wonderful be anything else?

"Oh, my stars!" Mrs. Weasley's shrill voice stopped Harry's heart in his chest.

Ginny yanked her shirt down, and tried to right her skirt while Harry struggled to stand. Luckily his jeans were still buttoned, even if they were sporting a large wet spot.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. "Ginny!"

Harry turned to hide the front of his jeans. "Uh…er…Mrs. Weasley…"

"Don't you Mrs. Weasley me! Arthur! Arthur get down here!" she called up the stairs.

"Oh, shit," Ginny said.

"Watch your tongue, young lady!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. "And on my couch! I expected better of you Harry!"

"What?" Ginny asked, defensively. "We were just snogging, Mum! I was just snogging my boyfriend!" Harry wasn't about to correct her.

"I know exactly what the two of you were doing! Arthur!"

"Molly!" he called, and came running down the stairs, wand drawn. "What is it?"

It was at this point that Charlie came in, saw his father's wand drawn, and drew his own. "What's happened?"

"Your sister!" she said, pointing an angry finger at Ginny. "And that boy!"

That boy? _That_ boy? Harry had never been referred to as 'that boy' in the Weasley house before. The words rung in his ears and prickled his eyes. _That boy!_ It was as if his Aunt Petunia had uttered them. He could almost hear her shrill voice. _That boy!_

Arthur went red and began to sputter a bit, and Ginny crossed her arms, her chin raised defiantly. "I was snogging my boyfriend."

"Er, Mum," Charlie said. He relaxed and put his wand away. "Want me to-"

"I most certainly do not! Arthur! Talk to the boy! Ginny, upstairs with you!"

"Me? What do you want me to do?" Mr. Weasley asked. "Surely Charlie would be better suited…they are, after all, of an age…"

Mrs. Weasley's glare shut him up. "Ginny, up! Now!"

Ginny have a frustrated growl and stomped up the stair. "This is so unfair!"

"I'll show you unfair, young lady! Go to your room!"

They were left, the three wizards, looking uncomfortably at the floor.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley," Harry began. Grief lodged itself in his throat, and he had to clear it. "I've betrayed your trust." And in doing so he'd lost the only parents he'd ever known. The sense of loss was profound, and Harry found himself blinking back tears. Alone. He was meant to be alone. No girlfriend, no family, and this was how he was to lose them all.

"Now, now, none of that, son," Mr. Weasley said. "Chin up." He pointed at the couch, and Harry sat, waiting for the final blow.

Charlie started back up the stair, but Mr. Weasley stopped him. "Won't you join us?" he pleaded.

Charlie smirked. "Need back up, do you?"

"Yes, yes," Mr. Weasley said, accepting the tease. He waved Charlie to the couch, too, and took his own seat in the chair opposite. "Just don't tell your mother."

Charlie dropped down with Harry on the couch - on the same couch Ginny had just been half naked on. On the same couch Harry had had his first-ever assisted orgasm. Harry crossed his legs and pulled his t-shirt down over the spot on his front, and again the urge to flee flared.

"So," said Charlie after an awkward silence. "That avoiding thing you do, it's not working out so well, is it? Time to change tactics, don't you think?"

Harry dropped his head into his hands. "You said to talk to her. I talked to her."

"Is that what you kids call it these days?" Charlie teased. "Seriously, Harry. Ginny's relentless. And I don't care if you're the Chosen One or not, you're no match for her tenacity. This game you're playing, you're not going to win, and someone's going to get hurt."

"I don't think anyone is playing anymore. Now when I tell Ginny we can't see each other anymore she just nods and kisses me…" Harry glanced anxiously at Mr. Weasley.

"That sounds like my Ginny," he said.

"Er…yeah," Harry said. "It does, doesn't it? Only this wasn't…this time it wasn't her. It was me." Harry felt the heat in his face. He wished Mr. Weasley wasn't there. He looked down at his shoes. "This was my fault."

"Blame is an ugly rut to fall into," Charlie said.

"Look, son," Mr. Weasley said, "we just want to know that you're going to do right by our Ginny. Be careful with her, if you will. Particularly after what happened to her her first year."

"What happened?" Charlie asked. He looked quizzically between Harry and his father.

With a shiver Harry realized Mr. Weasley was talking about what had happened with the diary, and the Chamber of Secrets. "Oh."

"There was some…it's rather a long story, really," Mr. Weasley said.

"A seventeen year old echo of Voldemort, who inhabited a diary Lucius Malfoy planted on her, cast The Imperius Curse on Ginny and he made her do all sorts of terrible things, including opening the Chamber of Secrets that held a basilisk meant to kill all the less than pure bloods at the school. Then, he kidnapped her and held her prisoner down in the Chamber. He used her as bait to get to me." Harry remembered her lying there in the damp underground chamber, all pale and lifeless. He remembered thinking he was going to have to tell Ron his little sister was dead, that he hadn't been fast enough to save her.

"Well, yes, I reckon that's the shorter version," Mr. Weasley said with a nod.

"I don't get it," Charlie said. "So why is Mum having kittens over Harry and Ginny on the couch? Reckons Harry's put The Imperius Curse on our Ginny, does she?"

"No, no," said Mr. Weasley, and his face went from red to ashy. "It was a terrible time that summer after Ginny's first year. We didn't quite know how best to help her. Dumbledore came by every now and then, he was a good wizard, that one. He truly cared about our little Ginny. He even offered to put her memories in his pensive, so she wouldn't have to carry them around all the time. Molly urged her to do it, but of course she refused. She said they might be important someday, so she'd keep them."

"What memories?" Charlie asked. "Of being under The Imperius Curse? Can one remember that?"

"He was inside her head," Harry said quietly. "It's…horrible. It's terrifying."

"Not just her head," Mr. Weasley muttered. His eyes watered and went puffy.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked. "Dad? What does that mean?"

"Imagine Voldemort at seventeen," Mr. Weasley said. "He hasn't the legions of Death Eaters at his disposal, just one pretty little eleven year old girl. He's seventeen, and you know how seventeen year old boys are." His gaze on Harry grew dark. "And he's a sadist, and he's got her completely at his mercy. My baby girl. My sweet little Ginny. That monster had her."

"Oh, no," said Charlie. "No. You're not saying what I think you're saying."

"She was just eleven…"

Harry went cold inside.

Charlie's voice went tight. "Voldemort raped Ginny?"

"What?" Ron stood on the stair, his face contorted in horror.

Harry ran. He left the house and ran past the garden and out into the night. His feet pounded the earth and his arms pumped and his lungs fought for air. It didn't matter that he didn't have any shoes on, or that the air was warm and muggy and it made him cough. When he reached the orchard he doubled over with his hands on his knees and coughed until he retched, and then he ran again. Sweat poured down his face, down his chest. His lungs felt like they had needles in them. His head pounded. When he reached the end of the orchard he kept going. He felt the magical boundary break around him. He was in the Muggle world. It didn't matter.

Harry ran until he became too dizzy, and he had to drop to his knees, and then his back. He stared up at the blurry stars and realized he was crying. And then his chin quivered and the sobs started. He threw off his glasses and dropped an arm over his face. He was in a field somewhere. No one could see him.

And now that he was stopped and was gasping for air and crying like a little girl, Harry couldn't stop his guilt. He hadn't been fast enough. For five years Harry had thought he'd saved Ginny, that he'd reached her in time, when the truth was he hadn't saved her at all. Tom Riddle had taken her. He'd had her.

And Harry had abandoned her afterwards. It was bad enough when he thought he left her to deal with having her head invaded by that monster – and in a sick sort of way Harry had felt a kinship to Ginny. He'd been glad for that kind of connection to someone else, even though it meant she'd had to suffer the way he had, because at least someone knew, and he hadn't felt quite so alone. But she'd suffered more, so much more. And he'd abandoned her after she'd been…he couldn't even think the word.

Oh, Ginny. His sweet, strong, lovely Ginny who could fight like warrior and kiss like a siren. Why hadn't she told him? He was only too glad not to have known. He wished he didn't know now, and that in itself was another betrayal. Harry of all people _should_ know. He should feel the guilt of not getting down to the Chamber of Secrets sooner to rescue her. And he should mourn what had been taken from her. She's only been eleven.

Harry sat up and wiped his face. He forced himself off the ground and pushed his shoulder back, took a deep breath and made a solemn promise to the stars above. Something inside him turned hard as stone. Harry knew regardless of prophecy he would kill Voldemort, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Once he'd collected himself, Harry walked slowly back to the Burrow to give himself time think of something to say to her. What could he possibly say? It wasn't like it had just happened; for her it was years ago. Did she still think about it? Of course, Harry decided. She must. Did she think about it when she was with him? When he was touching her? Kissing her?

The thought made him shudder, and he felt his stomach twinge. If she hadn't told him, maybe she didn't want him to know. Maybe with what they already shared she wanted to keep this part secret. Ginny was good at secrets. Maybe she was afraid Harry would tell Ron and Hermione. Maybe she didn't trust him.

Harry stepped back through the protective magical barrier around the Burrow, and took a deep breath. He'd failed her. He hadn't protected her when she needed him the most. He hadn't saved her in time. And then he'd abandoned her. Realization settled through him like a cold wave that he'd done it again this evening. He'd run, not to her, but as far away as his legs could carry him – he glanced back over his shoulder – which wasn't very bloody far. But he'd run when he should've gone to her. He'd fled when he should've protected. Ginny was right, he was a coward.

Harry shook his head. He would not fail her again. He would protect her, guard her. If she was in harm's way because of him, he would stand between her and danger. She would never, never again be alone.

The lights were all on at the Burrow, and from the garden it looked like it had on any given night. There were no shouts, no loud weeping, nothing to give away the secret that had been told. From where he stood the house looked calm and peaceful, and with the warm glow in the windows, even happy. Ron would be angry – furious even – not just because of what had happened to his only sister, as if that weren't enough, but also because he hadn't been told. How would Charlie react? Harry wasn't sure he knew him well enough to know. He'd probably be angry as well, but for Ginny, not himself. He'd probably grieve, as Mr. Weasley obviously still did.

No wonder Mrs. Weasley had been so upset to find Harry on top of Ginny in an obviously compromised position. It all made sense now. In her eyes that instant had transformed Harry into _that boy_, who had stolen her daughter's innocence at such a young age. Mrs. Weasley had trusted Harry with Ginny, and he'd betrayed her as well.

He startled out of his self-loathing to see Hermione stalk out of the house like a witch on a mission. She walked straight for him. He'd just left the orchard on his way back to the house. How did she know where he was? Or, was she, like him, just trying to escape? He didn't stop, but met her in the middle of the field the Weasleys called a yard, and she stepped straight into his arms. She hugged him tight, buried her head in his shoulder.

"Oh, Harry," she whimpered. She knew.

"Where is she?" he asked.

She sniffled a little, and pulled away. "Upstairs. Mrs. Weasley gave her a draught. She was beside herself when Ron started yelling about it. She didn't want him to know."

"She didn't want me to know," Harry corrected.

"Any of us," Hermione agreed. "She said we'd all look at her different, and Harry she was right. I couldn't stop staring at her. Oh, Harry! I just want to hex something!"

"I know."

She threw herself at him again, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. Harry was grateful for her. It was good to have a girl for a best mate. As great as Ron was, Harry could never do this with him, and sometimes a bloke just needed a hug from a good friend.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "We can't leave now."

"We're not," he said into her hair.

"I mean you, too. Harry, we need to go back to Hogwarts, even if it's not for the whole year. We need the library there, and a strong plan of attack. Once we know where the Horcruxes are, or even where to find Godric's Hollow, we'll go. I promise. But now…it just doesn't make any sense…and to leave Ginny…how can we leave Ginny now?"

"We can't," he said.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure. She's Ginny. But you didn't see Ron's face. He was so angry for Ginny, and hurt, but there was more there, Harry. It was like something inside of him broke open. I've never seen him like that. It scared me. He yelled at his dad, and Mr. Weasley didn't react. It was horrible. His mum thought to give Ron a draught, too, but he refused to drink it."

"No, he wouldn't drink it. Neither would you."

Hermione gave him a curious look. "And Ginny would? What does that mean?"

"It means she didn't really drink it, either." He looked up at her darkened window. If something were to happen, something unexpected, Ginny of all people would want to be wide awake and ready for a fight. "I need to talk to her." He wanted to hold her tight.

"Harry…" Hermione's eyes looked black in the dark, and her tears and the moonlight made them sparkle. "Hogwarts," she said simply.

He didn't know if staying would place Ginny in any more danger than she already was, but he did know that he couldn't protect her if he left. Of course, he had been there at Hogwarts when Tom Riddle had taken her. It would be different this time. "I can't fail her," he said. "Not again."

"Please, Harry," Hermione whispered. "Say we'll go to Hogwarts. At least until we have something more to go on."

Harry closed his eyes and nodded.

The double CRACK of two people Apparating near the Burrow's door startled them apart. Harry immediately drew his wand, and Hermione followed his lead. It was dark, but Harry would've known Tonks' muscular legs and wild, spiky hair anywhere. It must be time for the Order meeting.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said. "And Hermione. What are you two doing out here in the dark?"

"Out for a stroll," Harry said. There was an annoyed snort behind Tonks, and Harry realized the other figure was Charlie's hypothetical, standing with her arms tightly crossed. She stepped up next to Tonks.

It was odd to know so much about this stranger, like she was a storybook character come to life. Harry wondered if this was what it was like for other people when they met him – if they looked at him, and felt that the boy didn't quite measure up to the legend. It was clear that's what she thought of him.

Charlie had called her stunning, but Harry didn't agree. He supposed she was pretty, as all women who didn't have huge boils or terrible disfigurements were. She had two eyes and a straight nose that wasn't overly large, and a full mouth, so yes, she was pretty. Not Ginny pretty, but pretty. Her hair was long and wavy, and dark, and it was tied back with a lace between her shoulders. It looked uneven, as if someone had hacked off different bunches of it with a knife. Had she done that? Her robes were borrowed, of course, and probably from Tonks. They were too short for her, too colorful, even in the dark. They made her expression that much more somber. She wore too much make-up.

Esmerelda looked at the house. "He's here," she said quietly. And again Harry was struck by her flat accent. He didn't often meet wizards from outside of Britain, and he was fairly sure he'd never met an American before.

The woman crossed her arms. "Nym, this was a bad idea. Very bad."

"Ez, it's killing him-"

"Oh, please. Charlie's a big boy, he'll be fine."

"And what about you?"

"What about me? I need clothes and shoes. I do not need Charlie Weasley. Though I could go for a stiff drink-"

"Who do you think you're fooling?"

The woman went quiet. She seemed to deflate. "It's been three years, and I've been fine. He's been fine. We can go another couple years, can't we? If I hadn't portkeyed here we might have gone forever without seeing each other again – and been completely fine. We just need to put some more time between us, and things will get back to normal. Come on. He doesn't even know I'm here, Nym, let's just go. I don't how you talked me into this. It's crazy. What do you think he's going to do? He's still the same wizard, I'm still me, nothing's changed. The very best we can hope for is a painful silence. The worst…fuck, Nym, I can't do that again! I've got to get out of here!"

"Ez," Tonks said, and she grabbed the woman by the shoulders. "Take a breath. It's going to be fine."

"No, no it's…something's wrong." She turned to Hermione. "What's happened? Is it the sister? What's happened?"

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked.

"Just look at him," Esmerelda said, and waved a dismissive hand at Harry. Did he really look that distraught? He certainly felt it.

"What's happened?" Esmerelda pressed, and then her eyes went wide and she spun around to face the house. "Oh, fuck. He knows."

Not even a second later the kitchen door slammed open and Charlie's stout, muscular figure stepped into silhouette. He stood there, frozen.

"Fuck," Esmerelda whispered and Charlie rushed to her. She took a few steps back, but Tonks kept her from more.

"Where have you been?" he asked. It almost came out as a cry. "I've looked for you everywhere."

"Not everywhere," Esmerelda said.

He reached for her, and she immediately shrugged away.

"_M-am rătăcic_," he said. He took another step and more of the smooth, heavy language poured from his mouth. Harry had never heard it before. Something between Italian and…Russian?

"_Nu__!_" The woman took a step back and thrust out her arm to stop him. "_Nu ma atinge__!_"

"Oh, bloody, bloody hell," said Tonks under her breath. "It's never good when they start that."

"Is it Romanian?" Hermione asked. "She knows Romanian, too?"

"Where do you think he learned it?" Tonks said.

Esmerelda began to raise her voice, and Charlie soon followed.

"All right! Knock it off!" Tonks shouted over them. "English, damn it! When the two of you break into that bloody language it all goes to hell!"

Esmerelda said something under her breath and gave Tonks an angry look.

"She said it's not the language," Charlie translated, with a hint of a smirk. Then he snapped at her with some lyrical sounding words. She snapped right back.

"English!" Tonks yelled, and then to Harry she said: "Damn Gypsy language. Boils their blood."

"It's not Gypsy!" Esmerelda insisted.

"Are you coming to the meeting tonight?" Charlie asked, anxious and hopeful. "Is that why you're here?"

"No," Esmerelda said.

"Yes," said Tonks. "Of course we are. We're Order. We'll be there."

"But why are you _here_? At the Burrow?" Charlie asked. Tonks made to answer, but Charlie raised a silencing finger at her and she shut her mouth. He looked hard at Esmerelda. "Why are _you_ here?"

"I…" She seemed to get lost in his gaze for a moment. "I don't know. It was a bad idea. You and I both know it-"

"Get out of my head." Charlie screwed his eyes shut.

Esmerelda put a hand to her temple. "You know it doesn't work like that."

"Right." He didn't move, but he opened his eyes. Charlie looked as if he wanted to devour her.

"Please, don't," Ez muttered, though it didn't sound as if her heart was in it.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked. Her eyes darted between Charlie and Esmerelda, both staring at each other as if something was about to explode.

"Charlie-" Tonks warned.

And in the next moment three things happened at once. Mrs. Weasley came trotting out the door, Charlie grabbed Esmerelda's shoulders and kissed the hell out of her. And Percy Weasley Apparated in.

* * *

They all went to the Order meeting that night, leaving Ron and Hermione on the couch in the living room, and Harry alone to face Ginny. He climbed the stairs slowly, trying to think of something to say to her. By the time he stood outside her door he'd decided on "Hullo," and he'd see where that took him. He knocked. There was no answer. He tried the knob, and the door gave way easily. He peeked in.

The lights were off, and Ginny sat at the foot of her bed, her knees drawn up to her chin, staring out the open window. The warm breeze brushed the lightest hair around her face. She didn't turn when he shut the door behind him, or when he sat down on Hermione's rollaway bed.

"I can't believe you told them," Ginny said still looking out the window. "I trusted you."

"Told them what?" Harry asked. "Who?" He didn't know what he'd done, but the hurt in her voice cut him to the quick. "Ginny, what-"

"You know what!" She whipped out her wand, and aimed right at Harry's head. "I don't suffer fools gladly. And you, of all people, I trusted you, Harry."

Harry knew she would never threaten if she didn't intend to carry through. His brain went into double time.

"Ginny, it wasn't me."

"Then who?" she demanded. "Dumbledore, you and my parents were the only people who knew. Now everyone knows!"

"I didn't know," he told her, staring at the tip of her wand. "Please believe me."

When she looked at him now her face drawn and pained. "What? How could you not have known? You were there. You're lying. I never thought you'd lie to me."

"I have never lied to you, Ginny. I would never, ever lie to you. And I swear, I didn't tell your secret. I couldn't have, but even if I'd known, I wouldn't have."

Her brows knitted. "But you were there," she insisted.

"Where? In the Chamber? Is that where…?" He shook his head, closed his eyes. He hadn't been fast enough. If he hadn't gone for Lockhart first, would he have made it in time? "It happened in the Chamber. Oh, Gin, I'm so sorry."

"You knew! You had to have known! You found me down there. You saw my uniform ripped, the bruises. You were there!"

"I didn't know, Ginny." Had he seen those things? He remembered her lying there on the wet ground, and how cold her hand had been, and how still she was. He had been frightened that she wasn't breathing, and that he'd have to be the one to tell Ron his sister was dead. Had there been bruises? Was her uniform ripped? "I'm sorry, but that's not how I remember it."

"Not how you remember it? Could you not see? Dumbledore took one look at me and he knew! And he wasn't even down there. He didn't know me like you did!"

"He was Dumbledore," Harry said simply. Dumbledore always knew. "And it was second year. And I thought I was going to die. There was a lot going on. I honestly didn't see…I wish I had. Ginny, I'm sorry." He'd failed her over and over.

It was as if a Shield Charm had been cast; there was suddenly a barrier between them. Her eyes went dull, her wand hand dropped to her side, and she looked back out the window.

"Ginny," he said quickly, "I was twelve and there was a giant snake-"

"I don't want to talk about it any more," she said.

"Don't shut me out," Harry said. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner, in the Chamber. I'm sorry it happened at all. If I'd steered clear of your family, back at the beginning then-"

"Harry, stop."

He fell silent. He wasn't helping her, and he was worried he was just making things worse. "Do you want me to leave?" When her head whipped around he realized how it had sounded. "I meant your room."

"Oh. No. Unless you want to."

"No," he said, and sat on the rollaway bed.

"Earlier," Ginny said, as she stared out the window again, "Hermione asked if I was so upset because now you knew what had happened, and was I afraid you wouldn't want me anymore. I hadn't really considered it, because obviously I thought you knew, and you kissed me anyway. But, if you didn't know…"

"Nothing I've learned tonight has changed the way I feel about you."

She gave a sad chuckle. "The way you feel about me," she echoed. "Not exactly an admission of love, is it?" Then she sighed. "No matter. I've got something more to tell you, and after that you'll not be able to get far enough away from me."

"It's not possible," he said, and still he found himself nervous. What more could there be?

"You've been a loyal friend to me, Harry, right from the start. But I wasn't to you. I betrayed you." She sighed deeply, licked her lips. Her eyes carefully avoided him. "I wrote about you in the diary. In Tom Riddle's diary. I told him things. I told him all about you. When he asked me questions I thought he was just being friendly. And there was no one else I could talk to. At least with him - who could he tell? I told myself it was like having a close friend who was completely safe to lament my unrequited love to. And he seemed to really care."

"But…you'd only known me for a year, and not so well. What could you possibly have told him? You didn't betray me, Ginny."

"I did! You and Hermione and Colin and Penny. And Mrs. Norris and Nearly Headless Nick."

"The basilisk got them," Harry said. "A basilisk that was controlled by Tom Riddle."

"You don't know how a basilisk is called?"

He knew. Hermione had explained it to him. "By the blood of a virgin," Harry said.

"By the blood of virginity," Ginny corrected. "It's a slight grammatical change, but a there's a very big difference. He didn't just need some of my blood; he needed it obtained in a very particular way. If I'd fought harder, if I'd escaped, then he never would've been able to call that bloody snake, and no one would've been hurt."

"You can't be serious. You were eleven! He was seventeen! He was bigger than the both of us put together! How could you have fought that?"

"You did," she said, and there was a hollowness in her voice. "And you won."

"That was luck. And Fawkes! Remember, he brought the sword."

Ginny shook her head. "It doesn't matter how you did it, you did. And you weren't that much older than me, just a year. If I had escaped, or stopped writing in that bloody diary, or not even opened it at all, then none of that would've happened."

"You were Imperiused, kidnapped and tortured. You can't possibly believe it was your fault," Harry said, though it was clear from her stricken expression that she did. He went to her, sat on her bed, and wrapped his arms around her in an awkward embrace. Her knees were still up between them, but she laid her head on his shoulder.

"There is only one wizard we can blame for what happened that year, and that's Voldemort."

"It was a long time ago," she told him. "And now it's all back, like it happened last week, and it's like it was before. Oh, Harry, how could you not have known?"

She shifted out of his hug, and crossed her arms tightly around herself. "It was bad while it was happening. The first time I thought I would die – I wanted to die. I thought everyone could tell what had happened to me. Then, after the second time-"

"Second?" Harry gasped. "How…how many times?"

She screwed her eyes closed. "Four."

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room. Harry didn't know what to say, he just sat there, his mouth open, horrified at what she'd just revealed. Four times? "But after the first it wouldn't have…blood of virginity, you said."

"He liked it," she said quietly. "He liked it when I cried. I tried to throw the diary away, but it kept coming back to me. And every time he'd release the basilisk and he'd wait until I was alone in the dormitory, and he'd force me…I couldn't fight him – I tried, but he was so big…and…and no one knew…"

And she was eleven.

Harry didn't think he could handle much more, but he wasn't about to stop her if she needed to tell him what had happened. He should be the one to carry the burden with her. She'd thought he carried it all along.

With a haunted look, and her eyes glued to the floor, she asked, "Do you think that we could talk about something else? Anything else?"

"Anything you want," he said.

"Will you lie with me?" she asked. "Just…not touching?"

Harry turned on his side, pressed his back against the wall to leave a space for her on the narrow bed. She stretched out beside him, facing him, so close he could feel the warmth of her breath. She closed her eyes.

"Say something," she whispered.

What could she possibly want to hear? Something about other people, he guessed. Something easy. He told her the first thing that came to mind. "Esmerelda came to the Burrow tonight. Charlie kissed her."

Ginny's eyes snapped open. "Oh my stars. Please tell me someone saw that besides you."

"Hermione was there," Harry happily complied. "And your mum walked out and saw them."

Ginny smiled. It was small, but it was definitely there. "Did she have kittens? She's been needling him about finding a girl ever since he got here."

"Well, she might've done, except Percy turned up."

Ginny pushed herself up to sitting. "No! My stars!"

"Wait, it gets better. Percy knows Esmerelda."

"He knows Charlie's girl? But…didn't Ron say that Charlie met her in Romania?"

"I think Dumbledore introduced them here, and they went to Romania together," Harry told her. "But that doesn't explain how Percy knows her, or why he came to the Burrow after her."

"He came after her?" Ginny said. "You're sure?"

"Well, Percy did call her name, and then she sort of pushed herself away from Charlie-"

"Wait, what kind of kiss was it?"

"It was a proper snog. He had his hands on her bum," Harry said.

"No!" said Ginny, a wide smile now spreading across her face. "Where were her hands?"

"I don't remember," Harry said. "You're missing the point. Percy called her name and she pushed away from Charlie as if she just realized what she was doing, and she saw Percy standing there, and then looked back at Charlie and said, 'Fuck me.' Then she Disapparated, and Percy right after her."

"Fuck me?"

"Her words."

"Didn't Percy say anything to Mum?"

"Not a word," Harry told her. "And then Charlie shouted at Tonks, demanding to know where they went and how Percy knows Esmerelda and if they were seeing each other, which seemed to make him a bit shaky."

"The thought of Percy dating anyone makes me a little shaky," Ginny quipped. "What did Percy do when he saw her snogging Charlie?"

"Nothing really, beyond calling her name. He didn't look particularly surprised or angry, if that's what you mean, but he didn't look thrilled, either." Harry thought back, and tried to remember if Tonks had been surprised at the snog, and decided he hadn't bothered to look at Tonks at that particular moment.

"So, how does Percy know Esmerelda, then?" Ginny asked.

"Dunno," Harry said. "Tonks just said they were friends."

"Percy has friends?" Ginny asked. "That prat?" She lay back down, and pillowed her head on her arm. The life was back in her eyes, and Harry felt the familiar twist in his chest. He loved her; he no longer had any doubt. It might feel different than Ron's love for Hermione, but Harry was certain it was love just the same. "Then what happened?"

"Not so much, really. Charlie yelled some – he's scary when he gets mad," Harry admitted. "I was running through Shield Spells in my head, just in case."

"He's always been like that," Ginny said dismissively. "Nothing ever comes of it."

"I'm just glad he's happy and smiling most of the time."

"Enough about Charlie," said Ginny. "What did Mum do?"

"After Tonks left, Charlie stood there for a moment, and then he started swearing, and your mum turned and went back inside. She didn't really do anything."

Ginny sighed. "She was probably rankled that Percy didn't even say hello."

Harry nodded. "Then your parents came out, and they all left for Headquarters. And I came up to see you."

"That was a brilliant story," Ginny said. "Tell it again. Only this time more about how Percy's a prat."

Harry grinned. He was only too happy to comply.


	8. Chapter 7 Confessions

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 7 – Confessions

Harry woke to the odd feeling of being in an unfamiliar bed with another body. Ginny's hair was on his cheek, and his arm was thrown over her middle in a loose embrace. Had they slept all night like that in the narrow bed? Harry had expected that when the others returned from the Order meeting that he would be sent up to Ron's room. Had they made it back at all? Harry lifted his head, and over Ginny's sleeping form he saw Hermione on her bed, curled on her side, fists tucked under her chin. Her hair covered her face like a blanket, but he could tell from her regular breathing that she was fast asleep.

Harry relaxed down into the pillow, and Ginny's bum snuggled back against him. Was _she_ asleep? His lap certainly wasn't anymore. He resisted pressing against her. It just didn't seem right while Hermione was in the room. Although, his mind reasoned that she was asleep…

No. Ginny still wasn't his girlfriend. Technically. He wasn't yet sure if he should do something about that. Nothing had changed, really, except his immediate plans. Harry was still going to have to hunt for the Horcruxes and face down Voldemort, so she would still be a target if they were together. And, he was still going to have to go it alone eventually.

But eventually seemed so bloody far off when he closed his eyes and breathed in her hair, when he pressed his hand flat against her belly and pulled her firmly back against his body. She sighed and covered his hand with hers. So, she was awake. She pushed his hand lower, and helped him cup her between her legs.

"Mmm," he muttered. "No. Hermione."

"Hermione?" she said, springing up. She glared at him, her face still adorably puffy from sleep. "_Hermione_?"

"Hmm? Wha'?" Hermione asked, lifting her great, fluffy head. Her wand was already in her hand and she was pointing it at the wall. "What?"

"I was saying no, we can't, because we'll wake up Hermione," Harry said flatly. "Don't be ridiculous."

"When you touch me, I don't expect you to moan another girl's name," she snapped.

"I didn't moan," he insisted, "and she's not a girl. She's Hermione!"

"Thanks, for that," Hermione said, tucking her wand back under her pillow, and rolling so that her back was to them.

"You know what I mean," Harry said.

Ginny was not appeased. "I'm going to shower," she said, and left him glaring at her, wondering where the promising start to the day had gone.

* * *

Ron was downstairs with a mug of coffee and a plate of bacon and toast. Harry dropped down at the table, and poured himself some coffee as well.

"Charlie's just gone," Ron told him, and then he took a large bite of bacon. He watched Harry sip. "So?"

"So?" Harry asked.

"You and Ginny, then?"

"Me and Ginny, what?" Harry asked. He wasn't in the mood for games. He added a spoon of sugar to his mug and took a piece of toast from Ron's plate.

"Mum saw the both of you last night, you know. When she didn't find you in the living room with me and Hermione, she marched right up."

"She didn't wake us."

"No." Ron pushed his bacon around with his fork. "I reckon she saw you sleeping so peacefully and decided against it. Though she did insist that Hermione sleep on the rollaway and not leave Ginny's room under any circumstances. Pity that. It was lonesome up in my room all alone. Would've been nice to have a warm body in the bed with me, too. It was nice, wasn't it? Did you do it?"

Harry gave him an incredulous look. Ron could be so dense. "Have you forgotten what we found out last night? How upset Ginny was? We talked."

"Oh," said Ron. His face went strangely blank. "About that?"

"And other things," Harry said. "I told her about Percy coming here, and how Charlie's girl left with him."

"She was there, at the meeting last night," Ron said, suddenly coming back to life.

"With Percy?" Harry asked.

"No, he's not Order. I've been thinking - Hermione said that witch left with Percy last night, but…maybe it's just a coincidence or something. I mean, they Apparated, didn't they? There's nothing that says they Apparated to the same place."

"He said her name," Harry told him. "_And_ Tonks said they were friends."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Wonder how Tonks knows that."

"So, what happened at the meeting? Do you know? Did they snog again?"

"Hardly," Ron said. "Mum said they were a good twenty minutes into the meeting when Moody rushed from the other room and said someone was breaking in. Dad and Charlie followed, of course, but it was just her. Esmerelda. It's an odd sort of name, isn't it?"

"She broke in?" Harry asked. "How is that possible?"

"No, not really. Moody was over-reacting. Dad said she was just coming in late." Somewhat disappointed, Ron took another bite of bacon. "She sat at the back while the meeting went on," he said as he chewed. "Mum said Charlie kept looking at her. Hermione went on and on about the romance of it, but if you ask me, that bird's off her rocker. Esmerelda, not Hermione. Though, if Hermione thinks it's romantic..."

"It is romantic!" Hermione insisted as she came into the kitchen. She sat beside Ron and poured herself some coffee. "A lost love coming back after all this time. And he's still taken with her, you can tell."

"How can you tell?" Ron demanded. "And don't say it's the way he looks at her, because that's just girly nonsense. He looks at her the same as you or me."

Hermione smirked. "You're delusional." And with an easy shrug she changed the subject. "So, then, are we going to Diagon Alley today? I want to get some new robes."

"This afternoon," Ron said. "Mum's taking us. I told her she didn't have to. It's not like we're children. We can Apparate now."

"I wonder who will be attending this year," Hermione said absently, and then sipped her coffee. "The_ Prophet_ said that only a quarter of the normal students will be returning, and even less are expected among the first years. I don't know if I believe that or not. Could the numbers really be that low?"

Ron shrugged. "No one trusts the Ministry any longer, and they're the ones giving their word that Hogwarts will be protected."

Hermione sighed. "Aurors patrolling the halls after curfew instead of Prefects. It just won't be the same."

"No, it won't," Harry said.

The very thought of going back to Hogwarts stole Harry's appetite away. He'd been upset last night when he agreed to go back. He hadn't been thinking. Ginny had clouded his judgment again. The need to protect her had been so strong as to be palpable, and the need to atone even more so. Somehow last night it made sense to stay by her side, as if that could make up for him abandoning her after Riddle. Ridiculous. No amount of penance could make up for that. And staying just prolonged the inevitable.

His stomach churned and the bitter smell of coffee made him sick. He got up from the table and headed outside. "Going for a walk," he said over his shoulder.

"Oh, dear," he heard Hermione say just before the door closed behind him. The door opened again almost immediately.

"Er…Harry?" It was Ron, fists shoved into his trouser pockets. Hermione stood beside him, concern etched on her face. "You all right?"

"Fine," Harry told them. "Brilliant."

"You're having second thoughts," Hermione said. "I knew you would. You agreed too quickly last night."

"I was upset," Harry told her. "I've got to find Godric's Hollow."

"So, what is it, then? East again?" Hermione asked with a sigh. "Honestly, Harry, you're a clever wizard. You can't possibly think that's a valid plan. Tell him it's rubbish, Ron."

Ron just drew his shoulder up higher and kicked at the ground.

"Oh, for – Ron!" Hermione cried, "not you, too!"

"Let the bloke make up his own mind," Ron said quietly.

Something orange fluttered above him, and Harry looked up to see Ginny sitting in her bedroom window, her hair playing in the warm breeze. She didn't say anything, didn't even wave, but her eyes poured into his, even from a distance. His heart churned.

"Harry," Hermione began again, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Never mind. You're right."

"I am?" she asked.

"I can't leave her. At least not yet. I should – I should leave right now, but I can't."

Ginny gave him a small, sad smile, and Harry's stomach twisted. He should've left after the Dursleys, or after Dumbledore's funeral. He should've left long before she told him she loved him, before he'd seen her lost to her passions. Before he fell in love with her. Before she fell in love with him.

* * *

The castle smelled the same, looked the same, the Great Hall was arranged the same, as if Dumbledore hadn't been murdered at the top of the Astronomy tower just three months before, and then had his body dumped over the rampart and on to the grounds a hundred feet below. Students filed in around Harry and found their seats, and he let Hermione pull him along to the center of Gryffindor table. She sat next to him, and Ginny on the other side. Ron took a bench opposite.

"Oh, bloody, bloody hell." It was Ginny's whispered voice. "What's _he_ doing here?"

Harry turned to see her eyes blazing, and aimed up at the professors' table.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said, echoing his sister's sentiments.

It was Percy. He sat two chairs from McGonagall, who primly sat in Dumbledore's chair as if she belonged there. Harry slumped a little more. Percy was dressed in professor's robes, and wore a flat wizard's cap over his curly red hair. His face was pale and long, and he didn't look his usual pompous self, but rather miserable, Harry thought, as Percy surveyed the students entering.

"He's never…a professor, is he?" Hermione asked. "Surely not."

"Bet he is," Ron said. "The Ministry threatened to appoint people if McGonagall couldn't find suitable teachers, didn't they? And we all know Percy's the Ministry's lacky."

"Not Defense," Ginny said quietly. "Please, not for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"There's Trelawney and Firenze, and Professor Sprout," Hermione said, mentally ticking off all the courses. "And Professors Sinistra and Vector. Maybe he's teaching Muggle Studies. None of us are taking that now, are we?"

"Where's Hagrid?" Ron asked.

"With the first years," Hermione said, distracted.

"Oh. Right."

"Is that…is that Tonks?"

Down at the far end of the table, Tonks sat looking over the crowd with her usual mild eagerness and interest. Her spikey pink hair was unmistakable.

"Did you know she was going to be teaching?" Harry asked the others. None of them had. "Why wouldn't she tell us something like that?"

"Reckon McGonagall just asked," Ron said. "They only just announced Hogwarts would open."

"Or maybe she's Ministry appointed," Hermione offered. "She is an Auror."

"I wouldn't mind her for Defense," Ginny said.

"But…but she's Tonks," Harry protested. "She's not a professor. _She's Tonks_!" It was just wrong.

The doors opened and the first years began to file in, and in the lead wasn't Hagrid, as it should have been.

"Charlie?" Ginny gasped, and sure enough it was her brother in his own professor's robes that steered the eleven year olds between the tables. There were barely a dozen.

"This is bloody brilliant," Ron said, disgusted. "Our seventh year and we've got bloody babysitters!"

"This must've been what that thick letter that Charlie received was about," Hermione said. "Remember? When we got our Hogwarts letters?"

"But he's got a position," Ginny protested. "In Romania! What about the dragons?"

"What about Hagrid?" Harry demanded. Where the bloody hell was Hagrid? He hadn't been sacked had he? Hogwarts was his home. Where would he go?

Ginny tugged Harry's sleeve, and she motioned to Percy, who was staring at Charlie as if he'd seen a ghost. "Reckon he didn't know about him either," Ginny whispered. She sounded amused.

McGonagall stood to address the Great Hall, but before she could speak the doors swung open, and the whole room turned to see a witch with long dark hair and black professor's robes hurry in. She rushed down the center aisle and addressed McGonagall in her flat accent, but Harry didn't need to hear her to know who she was. Percy didn't seem surprised to see her, but Charlie certainly did. He hadn't made it to his seat yet, and he stood frozen in front of the professor's table, eyes wide, mouth agape. Her gaze seemed to be drawn to him, and when their eyes met, she gasped. Her shoulders slumped. And there, in front of the entire school, she swore.

"Oh, fuck."

* * *

The four of them were holed up in the Gryffindor common room, in the alcove under the stairs leading up to the dormitories. It was more private than their preferred chairs next to the fire, if less comfortable. Hermione and Ron sat close on the padded bench already bickering.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione was saying in a quiet voice. "Charlie would never date a Death Eater."

"I know that! I'm saying that maybe she put a Love Hex on him or something. They're powerful - impossible to resist," Ron said. "Or, she might have slipped him a potion or something-"

"She's not a Death Eater," Hermione said cutting him off. "Hogwarts is crawling with Aurors, isn't it? And anyway, Tonks would know."

"But she's a Wizmere!" Ron grasped. "McGonagall said it clear as day. Esmerelda Wizmere. It's like saying she's a Malfoy! Or a LaStrange!"

"Or a Black?" Ginny asked. "Tonks is a Black, and so was Sirius. He was no Death Eater. It's not genetic, you know."

"Tonks is not a Black," Ron insisted. "She's a Tonks."

"And Esmerelda's Order," Ginny said flatly.

"So was Snape," Harry muttered.

"So, Esmerelda is a Death Eater because her family was, and you're the only ones who can see through her clever disguise? Charlie, and Tonks, and McGonagall, and the Order all have the wool over their eyes?" Hermione demanded.

Ron shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time. Dumbledore was wrong about Snape, wasn't he? Everyone was wrong about him but us."

"She could be another Snape," Harry agreed, but he hated that he said it out loud. He hated that Ron could be right. Hated that he didn't trust the Esmerelda woman, and hated that he was back at a Hogwarts that clearly wasn't Hogwarts anymore – not if Percy was teaching Potions. "We can't let our guard down. Not even for a moment."

"Constant vigilance?" Ginny asked, and then the edges of her lips turned up. "You becoming Mad-Eye in your old age, Potter? Going to sport a wooden foot, are you?"

"I might," Harry said, giving into her teasing. He didn't want to fight with her. "I'd look dashing with a fake leg."

Ginny laced her arm through his, laid her lead on his shoulder. "You'd look dashing with just about anything."

Hermione tried to hide a grin as she looked between Harry and Ginny. "I've got to go. Head Girl meeting with Professor McGonagall in her office."

"Hey," said Ron. "Who's the Head Boy?"

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose I'm about to find out."

"Maybe it's you, Harry," Ginny said quietly. "Did you ever open your Hogwarts letter?"

"It's not me," he told her. "For once, it's not me."

* * *

The wind howled outside the dorm window, and the diamond panes of glass were already fogged from Harry's breath. A storm had rolled in just after the feast, bringing with it a chill that was too cold for the first of September, even in Scotland, and it made the night too dark, too gloomy for sleep. For the first time in Harry's life the castle seemed more of a prison than a home, and he couldn't relax enough to rest.

Harry stared down across the grounds to Hagrid's hut. Flashes of magic lit up the already glowing windows. What was Charlie doing down there? It was _Hagrid's_ hut. Resentment tightened his chest, and Harry jumped down from the window and rummaged through his trunk until he found his invisibility cloak. He grabbed his broom, threw the cloak over himself, and tapped the tip of his wand to the window. It opened effortlessly.

It was a short flight down to the hut, and even so, by the time Harry pounded on the door he was soaked to the bone. The door opened, and Charlie's muscled form filled the frame.

"Harry?" Charlie grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him inside. "What the bloody…? Are you trying to get yourself expelled?" The door slammed shut, and with the flick of his wand, Charlie shut the worn flowered curtains covering the hut's windows. "Has something happened? What's wrong?"

The bed in the corner was gone, as was every piece of Hagrid-sized furniture. The hut seemed much bigger. It was all wrong.

"What have you done?" Harry demanded. "This is Hagrid's hut!"

"It's the Grounds Keeper's hut," Charlie corrected. "And for the next while, that's me." He reached into the loo and pulled out a folded towel for Harry, who was dripping all over the floor. Harry didn't take it.

"But you've changed everything!" Harry cried. "Where are the ferret carcasses? The bunches of stink wart?"

"Is that what that was?" Charlie asked, glancing back at the doorframe to the loo. "I can still smell it. I thought for a while it was smoke damage from the fire, but Professor Flitwick was able to-"

"Hagrid isn't gone, is he? Was he sacked?"

"No, he wasn't sacked." Charlie eyed him. "Harry, you're cold and wet. Why not have a seat? We can have a nice calm chat about what's upsetting you, yeah?" He flicked his wand at the dark hearth and a small fire happily sprang to life. It burned in Harry's gut. How _dare_ he light Hagrid's fire in Hagrid's hearth, in Hagrid's hut!

"I don't want to chat," Harry snapped. "And I don't want to be coddled! You've no right at all to be here! This is Hagrid's home! I can't believe he left without saying goodbye. Why would he do that? Where would he go?"

"He debated. He did want to see you, you know, but he reckoned in the end that it would be too hard to convince you that he needed to go. 'Best to slip out quietly,' he told me."

Which was, of course, exactly what Harry should have done months ago, and what he'd thought to do after Ginny's birthday. So why did his eyes prickle?

"He thinks highly of you, you know?" Charlie said lightly. "Couldn't sing enough of your praises."

"Yeah, well, he didn't think enough to say goodbye, did he? Where did he go?"

"Year's sabbatical. Dumbledore's death really shook him up." There was a few moment's pause before Charlie added, "You're having trouble, as well."

"I'm not," Harry insisted.

Charlie didn't challenge this, though Harry knew he wasn't fooling anyone. He took a seat on Charlie's new couch and tried not to enjoy how much more comfortable it was than Hagrid's old, lumpy chair. They sat there in silence for a moment, listening to the howl of the wind. It had to be close to midnight.

Finally Charlie said, "You know, you're not alone. We're all having trouble managing Dumbledore's death. Each of us, in our own way. Of course, none of the rest of us were there when it happened, so it's not that I really know what you're going through, but-"

"I'm fine," Harry told him. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Right, then," Charlie said. "So, you generally defy rules and sneak out past Aurors in the middle of a blustery night just for the fun of it, do you? Can I expect many of these late night excursions?"

"Hagrid would've sent me back to the castle," Harry said.

"Yes, well, as we can both plainly see, I'm not Hagrid. He needed some time off and I've stepped in for a spell to pick up the slack. Better me than a Ministry lackey, isn't it?"

"You're talking about Percy, aren't you?"

Charlie gave Harry a hard look. "He's Professor Weasley to you, Harry. You'll do well to remember that."

Harry rolled his eyes and glared at the fire. So now Charlie was going to pull rank on him? Would Tonks? She was teaching Transfiguration now instead of McGonagall, which did make sense, if one could get past the fact that McGonagall wasn't teaching any longer. And that somehow Tonks was a professor.

"But yeah," Charlie allowed. "I'm talking about Percy."

"You were surprised to see him," Harry said, needling that particular wound.

"Yeah," Charlie said quietly.

"You seemed pretty surprised to see your hypothetical as well."

Charlie didn't respond. Instead he stared sightless into the fire. Harry felt a little guilty he'd brought up Esmerelda at all, and then angry that he felt guilty.

Charlie cleared his throat. "You came to see me, Harry. What did you want?"

It was a good question, Harry decided. He didn't have an answer. Why had he left the dormitory? He couldn't sleep. He was angry. He had wanted a fight.

"It's going to be a strange year, that's for sure," Charlie muttered.

A stiff knock at the door startled them both.

"Bloody hell," Charlie said under his breath. "Put that cloak of yours back on."

Harry scrambled over to his broom and cloak by the door, and hid himself just as Charlie called, "Who's there?"

"Open up, Charlie. I know you're hiding him in there." It was Tonks. Charlie let out a sigh of relief and let her in.

"Good evening, Nym," he said cordially.

"Good morning, you mean," she grumbled. "Where the bloody hell is he?" Harry pulled his cloak off, and Tonks aimed her wand at the ceiling and cast an Impervius Spell over the whole hut.

"Is it Order?" she demanded.

"Order?" Harry asked.

"Has something happened? Is it your scar? Did you dream something? Molly said you have dreams sometimes."

"No, it's nothing."

"The truth, Harry!" she insisted.

"It is the truth!" he all but shouted at her.

She glared at him, but seemed to believe him. "As Gryffindor House Head I do not appreciate being woken in the middle of the night to be told that one of my seventh years has flown the coop. Do you have any idea how many Aurors you threw into a panic? And when they found out it was you…you caused a bloody riot, Harry!"

"I…they saw me? I was wearing my cloak," said Harry.

"It's a bleeding hurricane out there! They saw your trainers floating right out of the tower." Tonks turned from him, her hands on her hips. "Detention," she said sharply, as if she was a real teacher. "One week, after supper in my office. I'm sure I can find something disgusting for you to sort through."

* * *

Tonks sent Harry back to his dorm via the castle entry where he was gone over by several angry Aurors who said things like "irresponsible," and "selfish." Exhausted, wet and chilled Harry stomped up the multiple flights of stairs to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Oh, hullo," she said through a gaping yawn. "Found yourself in a spot of trouble, have you? The others said you'd be expelled for sure, but I said not a chance. You're Harry Potter, you are! Headmistress wants you here, doesn't she? You keep the castle safe."

"How's that?" Harry asked.

"Well, the Aurors, of course! The Ministry wouldn't bother with them if you weren't here, would they? No need to protect the likes of that one from You-Know-Who," she said, and Harry turned to see Peeves doing flips up the stairwell, cackling and blowing raspberries.

"Prudence!" Harry shouted, and the portrait swung open for him just in time. He tripped through the hole and landed on his hands and knees. When he looked up there were a dozen pairs of eyes staring down at him; the scariest of which belonged to Hermione.

"And there you are!" she said, disgusted. Her arms were crossed, her foot tapped. "Just what were you thinking?"

"He's in his pajamas," Ginny snapped at her, and she bent to help Harry to his feet. "I told you he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. You never listen to anyone! You always think you're right!"

"Where were you?" Hermione demanded.

Ron stood beside her, but with more concern and less accusation in his expression. Dean and Lavender stared at him, too, as did several of the third and second years, including Colin Creevey and his brother Dennis.

"You haven't been expelled, have you?" Colin asked.

"Detention," Harry told him. "What are you all doing up?"

"Ron's shouting is hard to sleep through," Ginny said flatly.

"Why was he shout – why were you shouting?"

"Well, I can't very well get up the girls' staircase, now, can I? How else was I supposed to rouse Hermione?"

"Why does that sound inappropriate when you say it?" Hermione asked. Ron grinned at her. "And besides, I'm Head Girl. I have my own staircase."

"And, I know that now, don't I?"

"Ron thought you'd left," Ginny supplied. "For good. He had a right fit, too."

Ron shrugged apologetically. "You've been pensive ever since you told Hermione you'd come to Hogwarts this term, and well, it was clear at the feast you didn't want to be here."

"So you woke the whole House? Tonks came to fetch me, you know."

"Where?" Hermione asked. "Where did you go?"

"To Hagrid's…to see Charlie."

Hermione pulled him by the wet arm over by the fire and away from unwanted ears. Ron and Ginny followed.

"Harry, did something happen?" Hermione whispered.

"No," he said, "and before you ask, it's not my scar and I didn't have a dream. Everything's fine."

"Well, everything's not fine," she said. "You have detention."

"Well, there's that," he admitted. "Look, it's late, and I'm cold. Can we save the rest of your scolding until morning?"

Hermione frowned at him. "I'm not scolding."

"Let him be, Hermione," Ron said. He tugged on her arm and threw a meaningful glance at Ginny. Hermione allowed herself to be pulled away, and the rest of the students slowly made their way up the dormitory stairs.

"You'll catch your death," Ginny said, and playfully ruffled his wet shirt sleeve. She ran a warm finger down the side of his arm. He shivered. "You should go up and change clothes."

Harry nodded. Her bottom lip was so very pink. She'd been biting it. "I'm sorry if I upset you," Harry said. "I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone."

Her brows lifted. "You're kidding, right? Those two notice everything about you, Harry." She motioned to Ron and Hermione who each lifted a bag and slung them over their shoulders. "They thought you'd gone without them, and it was all McGonagall could do to keep them rushing out after you."

"What? But…" That couldn't be true, could it? "McGonagall?"

"The Aurors alerted McGonagall and Tonks, and they both rushed up here. Luckily they managed to catch those two before they got much farther than the Fat Lady." Ginny rolled her eyes. "I told them you'd be back, but they wouldn't listen. I told them that you wouldn't go without at least saying good-bye. You wouldn't, would you? Hermione kept saying something about 'that bloody idiot' and 'bloody east.'"

"She swore?" Harry asked. "Ron must've been in ecstasy."

"Now that you mention it, he did look like he wanted to jump her." Her brown eyes poured into Harry. "You used to look at me like that. Before you found out."

"What? What are you on about?"

"You know what I'm on about," Ginny told him. "You've not kissed me once since the night you found out. Not one time, Harry."

"We've not really been alone, have we?" he defended.

He followed her gaze back to her brother and Hermione, heads bent and whispering.

"That's it, isn't it? You'll find some other reason not to be my boyfriend again - something to make me think it's you being noble – but it's me, isn't it? Now that you know." Ginny sighed. "Except you don't really know, do you? You see me differently now, but if you really knew you wouldn't be able to look at me at all."

"Now, what are you on about?" He was dripping on the worn rug, and the fire didn't stop the stray shiver that crawled through his shoulders.

"I'm talking about you not being able to stand even the idea of kissing someone _he's_ kissed. Or touching someone _he's_ touched."

"He kissed you?" The stunned question was out of Harry's mouth before his brain could stop it. "What do you mean he kissed you? On the lips?"

"Does that turn your stomach?" She crossed her arms protectively across her chest. She raised her chin defiantly, but the quiver in her voice gave her away. "He kissed me and I kissed him."

"You make it sound like you had a relationship with him, like he was your boyfriend or something. Tom Riddle. We are still talking about him, aren't we? He wasn't your boyfriend." An odd panic rose inside Harry. It felt like he was on the edge of a great precipice looking down, and knowing that even a light wind could knock him right over the edge.

"After the first time he hurt me, of course I fought him. I fought like a bloody Valkyrie. But he wasn't always like that. He was gentle at first. His lips were soft."

"You did not snog Voldemort!" Harry now had Ron and Hermione's undivided attention. He lowered his voice. "Ginny, tell me you didn't snog _him_." His voice was lower, but coarse with the tension of keeping it there. "Tell me he _wasn't_ your boyfriend."

She jerked from him. "Why would I bother lying now? It's clear from the expression on your face you'll never touch me again. I disgust you."

Harry felt as if his brain was melting. "I don't understand…"

"What don't you understand? I was eleven, and Tom was handsome. And he was the first person I ever knew who talked to me as if I was a witch, not just baby Ginny. He didn't push me aside. _You_ wouldn't even acknowledge me, but Tom listened to what I had to say, and he was funny and he cared. He said he cared! Why do you think I kept writing to him for months and months? He was a confidant. It felt like he was the only one who knew me at all!

"And when he came out of that diary, I thought I'd die I was so happy. I had a friend, a true friend who knew all my inner secrets and liked me anyway! I had someone who kissed me gently and told me I was the loveliest thing he'd ever seen! He said I was important! He said I was a gift that he'd been waiting forever for! So, yes, I kissed him! I bloody well snogged him! I didn't know who he was yet, or what he was about, but I knew that in his eyes I was my own person, not just a friend's baby sister!"

Harry's heart stopped in his chest. "You're blaming me?"

"It isn't your fault, Harry," Ginny told him. "You saved my life. That's not what I'm saying."

"I didn't save you soon enough," he said. "That's what you're saying."

"Stop it!" she shouted. "Do you always have to be the bloody hero?"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I love you, Harry. I always have." The way she said it, the look on her face cleaved his heart in two. She stared at him, waited. Tears finally swelled over her lashes and tripped down her cheeks. Harry didn't know what else to say. "I needed you to know. I hoped…I hoped you'd understand."

"That you _snogged_ Riddle? What else did you let him do?"

Her shoulders slumped forward, she hung her head. "Let him do?" she said at last. Tears spilled down her face. She turned away from him. "I _let_ him do…"

"But-" he began. And then he realized what he'd said. "No, wait. Ginny-"

"It's over, Harry. You and I, we're over. Be relieved," she said with her back to him. "I am. Now you know everything. Now, maybe I'll be able to sleep."


	9. Chapter 8 Rock Bottom

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 8 – Rock Bottom

"Go after her!" Hermione cried as she followed Harry up the stairs to his dorm room. "Harry, you can't leave it like this!"

"She left it like this," Harry reminded her. "I can't go up the girls' staircase."

"She's _crying_! She thinks you don't want her!"

Two steps up, Harry towered above Hermione. "Maybe I _don't_ want her anymore! Did you ever think of that? Maybe I don't want any of this! She _snogged_ him!"

"Don't be a prat," Ron said, at Hermione's side. "That was years ago. She was just a kid."

"That didn't seem to stop you from taking up with Lav-lav last year when you found out Hermione, here, snogged Viktor Krum back in fourth year!" Harry felt a smug satisfaction as Ron's face dropped.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You are _not_ that petty, Harry Potter."

"Yeah? Well maybe I am," Harry told her. "She _snogged_ Voldemort! He was her bloody boyfriend!" It hurt, and he didn't want it to. He should've left straight from the Dursleys on his birthday, then he never would've known.

"Oh, right," Hermione snapped. "Voldemort was her boyfriend in that he was a seventeen-year-old echo that came out of a Horcrux and took advantage of a little girl sort of way. Come on, Harry! It's _Ginny_! You _know_ her! She's the same girl she was yesterday and three days ago, and last week when her mum caught the two of you on the couch together! That's the Ginny you're walking away from!"

Harry turned. "They're all the same bloody girl."

A blow between his shoulders knocked Harry off balance and he tripped up the last step, catching it against his shin. Ron was on him in the next second, flipped him over and pinned him to the floor with a heavy hand to the center of his chest.

"I'm going to assume you're in some state of shock and not thinking clearly," Ron said slowly, deliberately. "I'm going to believe that after a night of sleep and contemplation you're going to see what an ass you've been to my sister, and you're going to walk right up to her in the morning and apologize."

"Apologize for what?" Harry demanded. "Get off of me you bloody prat!"

"_You made her cry!_" There were tears pooling in Ron's red eyes, and they scared the shit out of Harry. "My sister never cries, and you made her cry!"

"Ron," Hermione said, and she placed a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Back off, Hermione!" he ground out. "I'm going to hit him!" Spittle sprayed across Harry's cheek. A tear dropped on Harry's chin. Ron was shaking, and Harry had no doubt that his friend really was going to beat the shit out of him. Harry wasn't sure he'd do much to stop him.

"Ron, think," Hermione counseled.

Harry saw Ron's white fist as he whipped his arm back, and then in the next instant Hermione screamed, grabbed her face, and fell backward. It was hard to understand what had happened from Harry's vantage point on the stone floor, but when she disappeared down the stairs Ron was off him in an instant. Harry struggled to get up.

"Hermione!" Ron called in anguish, and he rushed down the stairs after her.

By the time Harry was able to get to his feet she was already lying at an awkward angle at the next landing down. She wasn't moving, and the edges of Harry's vision threatened black. He forced himself to blink and swallow, to reign in the panic.

"Oh…no!" Harry muttered weakly to himself, and he hurried down after Ron.

Ron, on his knees, said her name over and over as he collected her in his arms. Her head lolled back limply and her hair, draped over his arm, left a bloody smear.

"Don't touch her!" Harry called down. Of course Ron wasn't listening. "Ron, if you move her you could hurt her worse!"

"She just fell down a bleeding flight of stairs!" Ron shouted.

"I know," Harry said. "We need to get her to the infirmary."

"She's not breathing," Ron said. He looked up at Harry, his face streaked with tears. He'd gone so white his freckles seemed to disappear. "I killed her."

"She is breathing," Harry said quickly, not even bothering to check if it was true. They needed to get Hermione help, and fast. Harry drew his wand and shouted, "_Levicorpus_!" Her body began to rise, and Ron cried out, clung harder.

Harry gripped his shoulder. "She's hurt, Ron. She needs our help. Hermione needs us."

"Right," Ron said, and somehow this snapped him back to himself. "Let's get her to hospital."

"Good man."

They ran with Hermione in front of them down the remaining stairs and landings, through the common room and out the portrait hole. It was a terribly long way to the infirmary and, as they ran past the fifth floor, two Aurors in Ministry robes stopped them.

"But she's hurt!" Harry insisted.

"What happened?" one of them asked. "Was there an attack?"

The other, taller wizard nudged his comrade. "Never mind. Her head's bleeding. She needs a healer. You take her, I'll check out the tower."

The first Auror lifted his wand and took over Harry's Levitation Spell.

"Oi!" Harry objected.

"Back to your beds, the both of you!" the taller Auror instructed as his friend quickly continued down the stair with Hermione. Ron hurried after him.

"I said-" the taller wizard said.

"I don't give a bleeding flip what you said!" Ron shouted over his shoulder. "I'm not leaving her! She's my girl!"

"Frank, he's going with you!" the tall Auror called, and then turned back to Harry. "Right, then. Back up with you. And explain exactly what happened."

* * *

Harry had wanted to go with Hermione. He was terribly worried about her, but he knew that if he made a fuss the Aurors would've forced both he and Ron back to the common room, and well, if that happened Ron would've likely thrashed him senseless. Not that he wouldn't eventually, anyway, but Harry decided that if anyone deserved to see Hermione to the infirmary it was Ron. He was her boyfriend, after all. And he'd knocked her down the stairs, however accidentally. His guilt would be overwhelming. Harry's very nearly was, but the guilt was mixed so evenly with anger and outrage that it burned and churned in his belly and kept him from collapse. In fact, he found it impossible to simply sit on the couch in front of the fire. He paced the carpet that was still damp from where he'd dripped on it not ten minutes before. A crash of lightning outside made him jump.

And suddenly Ginny stepped down the girls' staircase, her eyes wide and distracted, her face clearly still distraught. She stopped for a moment on that last step and look up the boys' stairs. Then she shook her head, wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand, and turned to walk to the fire. She stopped dead when she saw Harry.

His heart rate doubled, and his only thought was to catch her before she escaped. "Ginny-"

"No!" she insisted.

"Hermione's hurt."

"What?" Her brows rose and she took several quick steps toward him.

"Ron and I were fighting and she got hit."

Ginny gasped thinking that was the worst of it.

It took a moment for Harry to swallow the lump in his throat, and he looked down at her feet to tell her the rest. "She felt down the stairs, Ginny. She was bleeding…unconscious."

And suddenly the whole night's emotions crashed down on Harry, and he found himself fighting back tears. He turned so Ginny wouldn't see, but he knew he couldn't hide from her. His shoulders shook, and even though he'd barely eaten at supper his stomach felt as if it wanted to reject what little he'd fed it.

It wasn't just Ginny and what she'd told him, and it wasn't just Hermione; it was both of them together, and being back at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore and Hagrid and the injustice of it all. What did it matter if Hermione could fall down a flight of stairs and die? If a bloody accident could take them out? If Ginny could fall in love with the single most evil wizard in the world – and the one person who wanted to see Harry dead? The one wizard Harry had to kill. It wasn't fair! None of it was bleeding fair!

"Did you love him?" Harry asked, still not facing her. His vision went blurry, and he yanked off his glasses to angrily wipe his sleeve over his cheeks and eyes. "When you snogged him, did you love him?"

"Why do you do this to me, Harry?"

"I need to know!"

"No, you don't."

"I do! Did you love him?"

"I was eleven."

"What does that mean? _Did you love him?_"

"It's not any of your business!"

He spun to face her then. "Tell me, you bloody bitch!"

Her face crumbled, and she shook her head. Her expression was pure agony. "I hate you, Harry. I really do. But you're the only boy I've ever loved."

Where there should have been relief, he felt only an ache in his chest. Grief compounded. "You hate me?" His voice came out very small.

"I deserve better than you."

He couldn't disagree. Looking at her now, he'd never seen her so hurt, so miserable. "You do. I'm sorry. Gin, I'm sorry."

When Ginny turned and went back up the stairs, he wasn't surprised. He watched her until she went around the curve, and then dropped down on to the couch. His nervous energy was gone. Now he just wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep for the rest of his life.

* * *

Neville woke him. "Blimey, Harry, did you kip down here?"

A crisp light filtered through the stained glass windows of the common room. "What time is it?"

"Breakfast," Neville said. "You don't want to miss the owls. They'll have our class schedules this morning."

Harry nodded and promised he'd be down soon, but his only thoughts were on getting to the infirmary to check on Hermione. If she was well, he would leave Hogwarts before the first class. If she wasn't…he'd have to cross that bridge when he came to it. There would be no problem of her or Ron following now. Ron would stay with Hermione until she was completely recovered. And Ginny…she'd be happy to see him go.

In the infirmary, Hermione was the only patient, and Ron sat beside her in a chair, elbows on knees, holding one of her hands between both of his. He didn't take his eyes off her, didn't even blink. Still in his pajamas and a t-shirt, barefoot and hair messed, Ron managed to look haggard. Harry had never seen him look so bad, not even after he was poisoned last year.

"How is she?" Harry quietly asked.

Ron kissed her fingertip without looking at him. "She had a fit last night. Madame Pomfrey thought at first it was a concussion, but then there was some bleeding…her brain was bleeding...her perfectly clever brain…"

"Oh, no…" Harry felt a little dizzy, and he closed his eyes. "Brain damage?"

"Madame Pomfrey said she was able to stop it, able to fix her or something, I had trouble following. She's doing better now. She's resting now. Will be right as rain, my girl." He swallowed thickly. He was exhausted.

"If you want…I could sit with her for an hour or two. If you wanted to get something to eat, or rest a little." Harry knew it was a mistake to offer the moment Ron's accusing eyes snapped to him. "Or, not," Harry said. "I'm sorry. Ron, I'm terribly sorry."

Ron shook his head, and looked back down at Hermione. "Are you disgusted by her?" he asked quietly.

"Disgusted? By Hermione?"

"By Ginny," Ron snapped. "Don't play with me. She was here earlier."

Alarms went off in Harry's head, and he knew he had to tread lightly here. Ron was a bomb waiting to go off, and Hermione…she needed him calm.

"_Do you find Ginny disgusting?_" Ron asked again. The vein at his temple pulsed.

"No," Harry said. "Of course not. She's beautiful."

"Even now," Ron pressed. "Now that you know?"

"Even now."

"Do you love her?" Ron asked, but it wasn't simply a question. His voice was low and dangerous.

The truth slipped from Harry's mouth on a breath. "I love her. I do. I reacted badly. I was…hurt. I was stupid. It doesn't matter. None of it matters now."

"Tell her," Ron commanded.

"Ron-"

His eye flashed to Harry. "Tell her now. Go find her and tell her."

"It's not that simple-" Harry began, but Ron shot up from his chair and drew his wand faster than Harry thought possible.

"You will find her and tell her, or I will strike you down. Have I made myself clear?"

Harry took a step back. There was a madness in Ron's eyes that he'd never seen before. It terrified him. "Clear," Harry said.

"And if you leave, if you even think about running, I'll hunt you down." Ron's wand didn't waiver, and Harry believed every word he said. "Now, go and find Ginny, and you tell her you love her."

"She hates me, Ron. She told me."

"We all do." Ron pocketed his wand, then took his seat once more. He picked up Hermione's dropped hand, and gently kissed her knuckle.

Harry's heart might as well have stopped in his chest. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think beyond Ron's declaration.

"I'm not fooling around here, damnit you! Tell her, you bloody bastard!" Ron said, raising his voice. "Now!"

Harry's instinct was to run, to grab his broom and never, never look back. But he couldn't. This was all his fault, and he had to put it to rights. Ron was right, he did need to find Ginny, because even if she no longer wanted to hear it from him, Harry did love her, and she deserved to be loved. She deserved so much more.

Of course, finding her proved to be something of a challenge. Ginny obviously didn't want to be found. She wasn't at breakfast, which wasn't all together surprising, but she also wasn't in the Gryffindor common room, or in the girls' dormitory (if Padma was to be believed) or in the library – not that he really expected her to be there. Harry started checking classrooms.

When he pushed open the Muggle Studies door, his stomach dropped out from under him, his chest tightened and he couldn't draw a breath, his eyes refused to shut, his feet wouldn't allow him to turn away. It was a solid minute that Harry stood there staring as Ginny Weasley snogged the hell out of Ernie Macmillian. Her hands were in his hair, mussing his perpetually perfect brown coif. His hands were on her bum – wadding up her skirt high enough for Harry to see her blue flowered knickers - and Ernie had her pulled tight against his body. She groaned and Harry's throat released a pained moan. Ernie must've heard it because he broke the kiss and looked up.

"Potter!" he said, both surprised and a little embarrassed at being caught. Ginny's face dropped. She closed her eyes and dropped her forehead against Ernie's chest.

And still, Harry couldn't look away. Some masochistic part of him wanted him to see them, wanted to feel the knife twisting in his chest. He deserved it, he told himself, and yet he thought of a dozen ways he could hex Ernie without even breaking a sweat. Harry could make him hurt. He could make him wish he was never born.

"Go away, Harry," Ginny said. "I've nothing to say to you."

"That much is clear," Harry snapped. Pain turned to anger, and it slithered through his veins. "Already found yourself a new bloke, have you? My, my, Ginny, you do work fast."

"New and better," she said lightly. "Ernie's Head Boy this year."

There was a buzzing inside Harry's head as blood surge fueling his rage. His hands began to shake. "So you got your Head Boy, after all. Brilliant."

"Yes," she said curtly, "he is."

"Say, Potter," Ernie began, "is there some problem? You look a little peaked."

Ernie still had his hands on Ginny's lower back, and she still stood happily in his arms. Ernie was tall, he had dark hair…much like Tom Riddle. Harry's head began to pound. And then there was a blinding light, and his scar felt as if it was ripping open. He grabbed his forehead, collapsed forward on to his knees.

"Harry!" It was Ginny's voice, distant and frantic.

And then there was laughter, an evil hissing sort of laughter he'd heard before in his head. And then Harry blacked out.

* * *

_Eggs. Rotten, stinking eggs. Yellow water, and thick air, and stars…thousands and thousands of stars. _

_Wormtail on his knees, and another squat wizard, someone familiar…Greyback, in his human form, torn and bloody and smiling. They're all smiling, laughing a horrible guttural laugh. It's good. It's very, very good…_

"Harry!" The shrill voice was followed by a sharp jostling of his shoulder. Harry blinked, and then hid his eyes from the bright light. Too bright. Wasn't it night?

"There you are, Harry." This time it was Lupin's calm voice. "Now, sit up. There you go."

His stomach wasn't right yet, but he managed to swing his legs over the couch and lean forward on them. Dumbledore's office? How had he gotten there?

"Eat this." A piece of chocolate was forced into his hand. Chocolate was Lupin's cure-all. When Harry blinked up at him he had his hands in his cardigan pocket, and he smiled warmly.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked Lupin, and then he realized that Tonks was there as well. She stood across the room, hands on hips, robes open to reveal a short denim skirt and a tight, low-cut top. She seemed agitated, and clutched her wand.

"All right now, Potter? You look as if you could use another lie-down," she said.

"It was your scar?" Lupin asked. "Did you see anything?"

Harry nodded, absently touched his forehead. It prickled, and his head throbbed. "But…what are you doing here?" Harry asked Lupin. His voice was rough, like he'd been screaming. "At Hogwarts?"

"Was in the neighborhood," Lupin dismissed with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

Shaky, sick, guilty, angry. Ginny snogged Ernie Macmillian. Bloody bint. "I'm good," Harry said.

There was a disbelieving snort from near the fireplace, and Harry turned to see Esmerelda standing there, staring at the flames, her arms crossed over her long, black robes. What was she doing there? Come to think of it, what was Harry doing there?

"Professor," he said to McGonagall, "am I in trouble?"

"What did you see, Harry?" Lupin asked, drawing his attention again. "Was it Voldemort?"

"I think…maybe. Yes."

"Maybe yes?" Esmerelda sounded upset. "Which is it, Potter? Maybe or yes? Was it Voldemort or not?"

Harry didn't understand why she was snappish with him. She hardly knew him. And his head still hurt. "I didn't see him, but I think-"

"You think?" she barked. She took a couple of steps toward him. Her black eyes pinned him. She was angry. Why was she angry? "Where was Voldemort? Who was he with? What were they doing? Did they say anything? Could he see you, as well? And who were you with? What were you doing in an empty classroom?"

"Enough!" Lupin said sharply, and raised a hand to cut her off.

"Remus-" Tonks began.

"No, luv, I won't have him badgered! He's still in shock." Remus tapped Harry hand. "Eat," he urged.

"He's not a child," Esmerelda said. "You treat him like a child. No wonder he's weak."

"I am not weak!"

"Oh, really? And how long was You-Know-Who in your head before I shoved him out? You didn't even try to defend yourself!" The color in her cheeks blazed as she turned to McGonagall. "If I'm here to teach him, then his lessons start tonight. We can't have You-Know-Who peeking into his head whenever he wants! Harry's not Order, and he hasn't Whispered, but he knows a helluva lot more than you think he does. He's got to be stronger, both physically and mentally, and no more pandering to him. No more kid gloves."

"Yes, yes," McGonagall said. "Of course you're right. But I can't allow-"

"Of course she's right?" Harry objected. "Who the bloody hell are you? I don't care if you're Charlie's bird or not, or if you knew Dumbledore! You can't come in here and start making demands! You're not even British!" Bloody Americans, always try to take over. They never left well-enough alone.

"I'm _not_ American, you pathetic little boy!" she shouted. "And like it or not you _need_ someone to take over here! Someone who doesn't know you, someone who don't care to coddle you. You're not ready for your future - you think you are, but I can tell you that you're not. You're not even close. You're weak-"

"_I'm not weak!_" Harry yelled. She took another step forward, and suddenly she was there, in his head, pushing and prodding, looking at things he didn't want her to see. Private things. Ginny…Hermione's breasts…wanking in the loo…Charlie-

She jerked away from him, and Harry fell forward on to the floor.

"Oh, dear!" McGonagall said.

"What did you do to him?" Lupin demanded. "Harry, are you all right?"

"She Read him," Tonks said grimly.

"Professor Wizmere, we do not force our way into the students' minds! This is Hogwarts! This is Britain! This is _not_ the wild west!"

"And this is not a student," she said, holding out a hand to help Harry up. He wasn't about to take it. "If you treat him like a student, this is all you'll ever get out of him. How long do you think he would hold up if another attack came right now?"

"That's what you're here for," Lupin insisted.

"No. I agreed to teach him to Shield his mind, not to baby-sit him the rest of his life because no one expected more from him." Her thin brows rose. "By the way, that was impressive, Harry, using a known weakness against me like that. Clever to pull up that particular memory. There is potential, I think. But you have to work harder. It's time you grew up."

Clever? He'd remembered Charlie lounging on Ron's bed when they talked that one morning at the Burrow about Ginny. How was that clever? "I've grown up. I'm seventeen."

She snorted. "As if that means anything. Get up, Potter," she said. Not an order, but a request. With everyone watching, it felt self-conscious and petty to refuse and remain on the floor. When he made it to his feet she inhaled deeply. "All right, then. Start at the very beginning, from the first instant your scar started to hurt. Tell us everything."

* * *

Harry's belly was grumbling as he made his way back to the infirmary. Ron didn't say anything when Harry sat down on the other side of Hermione. Neither of them had moved. He should've brought Ron some food, or pumpkin juice. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?

"You found Ginny," Ron said. "You look like hell."

"Bloody Ernie Macmillian."

"Ernie Macmillian?" said Ron.

"Yeah, Ginny's new boyfriend. What the bloody hell does she see in him?"

Ron's brows lowered, and he turned back to Hermione. "She has a new bloke, then?"

"She has the Head Boy," Harry grumbled.

"Was she crying?" Ron asked.

"What? No, she was snogging him! In the Muggle Studies classroom!"

"Well, then," Ron said. "Sounds to me like she traded up."

Harry wanted to be hurt by the slight, to be angry, but he found himself agreeing. Ginny deserved better than him, and she'd gone out and gotten it.

"You're too late," Ron said quietly. "You let a moment go by, and suddenly it's too late." He took a deep breath. "I could've caught her. I could've cast _Arresto Momentum_. I could've conjured pillows for her to land on – there are a hundred things I could've done."

"It happened so fast," Harry said.

"It always happens fast," Ron insisted. "Every time we get into a duel it's lightning quick, and one second can make the difference between floating to the ground or falling down the stairs." He placed her hand on the bed and rubbed his face. "You have to start up the DA. There's no way around it."

"The DA? Are you mad? Now?"

"We need the practice. _I_ need the practice. I need to know what spells to use in every situation. I need to be able to protect her properly, Harry. _This_ is my fault. Look at her! I did that!"

Hermione's eye was purple and green and had swollen shut, and her cheek radiated sickly pink and blue. Madame Pomfrey would want her conscious before healing the more minor wounds, of course. She would take care of the major injuries first, and leave the minor to heal on their own so as to not overtax the body with magic. Harry had been in the Infirmary enough to know the drill.

"I hit her, Harry."

"You didn't. It was an accident. You would never hit Hermione."

"No?" Ron asked. "I was going to hit you. And you're my best mate. I was going to hex you this morning. Or send you away. Who's to say I wouldn't hit her, too?"

"You love her," Harry protested. The guilt on Ron's face was so profound Harry's own eyes watered.

"And still…I couldn't save her from falling."

"I didn't save her, either. You're not alone in this. If I hadn't upset Ginny-"

"Yes, let's blame you," Ron said. Harry's stomach tensed, until Ron glanced over at him with a weak, watery smile. "You bloody bastard."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. Ron was still upset – hell, Harry was still upset – but if Hermione made it through this whole, then he knew he and Ron would be all right. If Hermione didn't make it…then Ron would need him. Ron would need them all.

"So, Macmillian, eh?" Ron said, as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "He's handsome. Serves you right."

"He's not so handsome," Harry said.

"Oh, the girls think so."

"Yeah, well, I defer to their judgment."

"You going to swear off witches, then?" Ron asked. Harry hadn't even thought about it. Why would he date someone if not Ginny?

"I'm a lousy boyfriend," Harry said.

Ron whole-heartedly agreed.

* * *

Fed, showered and changed, Harry reported to Tonks' office that night for detention, but she sent him to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom instead. It was lit up when he arrived, and all the desks had been piled along one wall to leave room for an enormous, thick green mat in the center.

"Before you come here each night you will spend at least a half hour in solitary meditation." Esmerelda swept down the office stairs and stepped onto the mat. She looked like a raven. A giant, angry raven. "You've mediated before, haven't you?"

"Erm…well, the traitor Snape had me lie in bed and clear my mind. That's like meditation, isn't it?"

Esmerelda's dark red lips twisted in a smirk. "Who's the traitor Snape?"

"He murdered Dumbledore."

Her smirk disappeared, and Harry found some satisfaction in that. "He was also my last Defense professor, so you'll understand when I say I don't trust you."

"You shouldn't trust me. You don't know me," she said succinctly. "Always keep your own opinion of people, follow your instincts above what others tell you. It's good that you challenge. Always question. Everyone has their own agenda in this, Harry, even people who want to help you."

"Even you?" he asked.

"Especially me," she told him. "My motives for being here aren't selfless. Yes, McGonagall asked me to teach you Occlumency, and she desperately needed to fill the Defense position, but I have my own reasons for coming to Hogwarts."

"Charlie," Harry said.

"Oh, fuck no. And just for the record, I don't care that you're Harry Potter. If you _ever_ call me Charlie's bird again I'll string you up by your ankles and let the first years have a go at you with a broom. _Capisce_?"

"Er…"

"Good. Two more things before I teach you what true meditation entails. Number one, I don't make a habit of breaking into other peoples' heads. Some people Broadcast like Charlie, or your friend Hermione – that one's a real screamer – but you don't. So when I'm Reading you, you'll know. You knew before, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Harry was still miffed about that.

"Right. That brings us to number two. I don't tell your secrets, you don't tell mine. In order for me to teach you properly there's going to be a lot of and back and forth between us." She took a deep breath. "I give you my word, and my word is my bond. I need yours."

"That includes what you already saw today."

"Of course," she said.

"Then you have my word. Your secrets are as safe with me as mine are with you."

She wasn't completely thrilled with the way he worded his promise, Harry could tell by the wary expression on her face, but she didn't call him on it. Harry didn't trust her, secrets or no, and if there was something dark in there that the others needed to know, he wouldn't hesitate in spilling every detail at his disposal to keep his friends safe.

"OK then," she said as she took a seat on the mat. "To meditate, from the Latin _meditatus_…"

* * *

Harry went to check on Hermione before going back to the dorm that night. Ron was bent over her hand asleep. Harry sighed. Honestly, though, if it was Ginny, would he be any different? Merlin. He hoped it would never be Ginny lying in that bed.

"Ung, Hermione!" Ron jerked up and blinked at her. Harry could tell he was holding his breath, searching for movement in her chest, any flicker of life in her face.

"She didn't move," Harry said quietly.

Ron jumped again, clearly taken by surprise. "I thought I heard her calling my name," Ron said groggily. He turned his attention back to Hermione. "She was calling me."

"She's still asleep."

"Yeah." Ron picked up her hand again.

"Ron. You need to eat something."

"I'm fine."

"You look like shit. Eat something, change your clothes. If you look like this when she wakes up you'll scare the hell out of her."

Ron glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "When did you start swearing?"

Harry smirked. "I'll stay with her. Go."

"No."

"I won't leave her side. I promise. Scrub up. Get some coffee."

"I want to be here when she wakes up."

"You will do," Harry assured him. "She'll wait for you. She loves you, and you know Hermione – she can be very stubborn."

A half-grin lifted his mouth. "Yeah…"

Harry didn't know how Ron stared at her like that. It was difficult to see Hermione so still.

"You'll stay with her, then?" Ron asked. "You won't leave her?"

"Not even for a second," Harry promised.

Ron nodded, but didn't make a move to stand.

"She's going to be all right, you know?" Harry said.

He didn't know if it was his words that triggered it or something that had been building, but Ron erupted then into guttural sobs that shook his entire body. He doubled over her hand again, pressed it to his forehead. Harry froze. He'd never seen Ron break down like that – or anyone, really. But this was Ron, his best mate. If it was Hermione, Harry would've put his arm around her shoulder, he would've given her a hug and held her. But Hermione was in the bed, and it was Ron who broke down, and somehow, the thought of holding Ron didn't sit quite right. Harry considered letting him cry; quietly leaving the infirmary and giving Ron a private moment, because his preferred tension release – swearing – wasn't likely to help him much at the moment. But Harry couldn't do it, he couldn't leave, not when Ron was so distraught.

So, with a heavy heart, Harry walked around the bed and knelt down beside his friend. Ron was a mess, red-faced, snot everywhere, and spittle that flew with every sob. Harry thought he knew this kind of anguish – when Sirius died he spent a night and a day bawling until his eyes simply wouldn't produce any more tears. But when Harry saw Hermione, and thought of what she meant to him – of all she meant to him – and knowing that she meant infinitely more to Ron, Harry realized that he had no concept for Ron's pain at all. Sirius had been his godfather, yes, but Harry had known him for less than a year all told. Harry couldn't possibly know the pain Ron had because he would never have the kind of connection Ron shared with Hermione. He might have had it with Ginny, he thought, but he'd ruined any chance for that now.

Ron shot up out of the chair before Harry had a chance to think of something to say. "You stay with her," Ron said, hiding his face, and pointing at the seat. "You stay here."

"Won't budge an inch," Harry said.

Ron gave a sort of nod and practically ran out of the infirmary.

He was back in less than twenty minutes.

* * *

Ginny was coming in the portrait hole the following morning just as Harry was going down to breakfast.

"Oh!" she said. She dodged his gaze and her face flushed. She pushed past him.

"Sorry," Harry said, annoyed. Was she going to start ignoring him now? She gave a sarcastic snort. "What's that for?"

"Interesting what you're willing to apologize for," she snapped.

"It wasn't an apology," he insisted.

She spun around to face him, and her hair fanned around her shoulders. "It's the closest I'll ever get out of you!"

"You want an apology?"

"I don't want anything from you," she insisted.

"Good, then. You'll not have one." Strictly speaking Harry hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't the one snogging the Head Boy in empty classrooms. Come to think of it, where was she coming back from so early in the morning? "Been snogging your new boyfriend already this morning, have you?"

Her face dropped and Harry knew he was closer to the truth than he'd intended to hit. "It's none of your business, where I've been." She lifted her chin, then, but it was a little late for true indignation. She was worried.

"More than snogging?" Harry asked, though his voice seemed to have lost its momentum by the third word. There was a chill that filtered through him from his head down.

She crossed her arms. "Again, none of your business." She refused to meet his eyes. Or couldn't.

And then his face went hot, and a sick sort of rage twisted his gut. "Bint," he spit out, but his mind was screaming _slag__! __Slag__! __Slag__!_

Tears filled her eyes, her chin quivered, but her voice didn't waver as she screamed, "And you're a bloody, selfish, prick of a boy who will never be anything more! You're pathetic! You're small! I hate you!"

Her words stung more than he could've thought possible. "Really? Well…you're the only one who seems to think so!"

"I'm the only person who really knows you, Harry. Ever think of that?" And then she blew up the girls' stair and out of sight.

His mind protested that she was wrong, that it was a lie. Ron knew him, and Hermione! Certainly they knew him better than Ginny! Except they didn't. She knew him in a completely different way. She understood what they couldn't even begin to fathom. Small, she said. Pathetic. Selfish. She'd called him a boy. Not a wizard, not a man, but a boy. He was a small, pathetic, selfish boy. She hated him.

He whirled around wanting to hit something, wanting to hurt someone. He wanted to fly. He wanted to rage. There were second years between him and the portrait hole, and he roared at them, "Get the bloody hell out of my way!" They scattered like mice, squeaking. He stormed down the tower stair, and then the Grand Stair, pushing students out of his way. Was he invisible? Couldn't they see him coming? "Move!" he ordered. A fourth year pushed back, and Harry had his wand in his hand before he registered what he was doing.

"_Potter__!_" The sharp voice snapped him back to himself, and while his anger didn't dissipate, he was able to see past it. He turned to see Esmerelda, dark hair, dark eyes, and in black robes looking fierce. "My office! Now!"

Who the bloody hell did she think she was, anyway? "I've got breakfast and then class," he told her, jaw clamped tight.

"You've just forfeited breakfast. My office now!"

He was still livid when he stomped into the empty Defense classroom. He didn't even make it to the circular stair that led to her elevated office when she said, "What the fuck is your problem, Potter?"

He spun on her. "_You!_" he shouted. "This place! Everything!" He was just an ass to Ginny. Why had he called her a bint? Why hadn't he just apologized? She'd wanted an apology, he knew, even if she wouldn't admit it.

"So you throw a tantrum?" She wrinkled her nose at him. "Pathetic."

"Shut up!" he yelled.

"Make me," she taunted. "Come on, Potter, show me what you're made of. Or is bullying fourth years more your style? Like to pick on the little ones?"

He whipped out his wand and tried to Petrify her, but she blocked him before he had "_Petrificus,_" completely out, and hit him hard with a Disarming Spell. He flipped backward and landed on a desk.

"Get up," she commanded. "Show me what you're made of. Where's that powerful Potter now?"

Harry held his back as he curled on to his side and forced himself back to his feet. Pain mingled with the anger now, tempering it a little, making him more cautious. What was she doing? Taunting him? She was supposed to be a professor! McGonagall would never force him to duel.

"Wand up," she commanded. "Give me the best you've got!"

"_Levicorpus__!_" Harry shouted, and Esmerelda was yanked up by her right ankle. Her robes fell down around her shoulders revealing more than Harry wanted to see; pudgy legs, thick middle, more than ample bum and baps incased in a black bra and knickers.

"_Convertic_!" she called, and Harry was punched hard in the gut. He doubled over, fell to the ground, and he heard her hit the stone floor as his spell failed. "_Bastic_!" she shouted, and he flew through the air and hit the wall with a thick thump.

"Protect yourself, Potter! Shield!" She was closing in on him, and he was still stuck with his feet dangling off the ground. His lungs wouldn't work, his eyes watered, his vision went dark around the edges. And then she was in his head, peeling away the layers of hurt, making the freshest wounds bleed all over again.

…_you're a bloody, selfish, prick of a boy who will never be anything more! You're pathetic! You're small!_ Ginny's words, Ginny's voice.

_I'm small_, Harry said in his head. _I'm pathetic_.

_You chose to be_, Esmerelda whispered inside him.

"No!" Harry shouted. "Get out of my head!"

"Make me," she urged. "Force me out!"

Ginny crying…Hermione lying bruised and still…Ron weeping.

"Will me out, Potter!"

He tried, but his hands were forced against the wall, his feet couldn't gain any purchase. She had control of his body, and access to his thoughts…of Ginny in her summer dress pushed up on her parents' couch, his hands in her knickers, her hand down his trousers. No! Not that thought – that was private! She couldn't have that! Ginny stroked him, she teased and tugged, and Merlin it felt so bloody good. And he kissed her, and he pushed a finger inside her and she touched herself, and _fuck_! he was going to come, and bloody Merlin, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her. And she hated him…and Ernie…and Harry's heart bled in his chest. He wanted to die.

Esmerelda pulled away, he felt her go. Slowly he slid down the wall, but he let his legs crumbled beneath him. He curled into a heap over his wet denims and hollow chest.

"Stand up, Harry."

"Go to hell."

"If you were physically stronger you would've been able to break the Restrain Spell," she said, as if he weren't lying on the floor, crying like a little girl. "And even with your limited mental training you should've been able to shove me out of that last memory. Were you even trying?"

"You had no right to see that!" Harry growled.

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly my idea of a good time, either," she said. She rested a hip on a desk and relaxed a little. "It makes me feel like a dirty old woman seeing you like that. Seventeen? You may be in your majority, but you're still very young. And that memory was hot."

"You shut up about it!" Harry shouted.

"Stand up," she said again. "Clean yourself up. Let's talk like adults."

He felt ridiculous on the floor, so he did force himself to his feet, and he _Scourified_ the front of his jeans dry. He faced her, squared his shoulders. "You spoke to me in my head. The traitor Snape never did that."

"Not all Legilimens can do it. And not all Occlumens can hear it. The fact that you could proves you have at least some ability. That's something of a relief after that pitiful demonstration we just had. You could feel me in there, yes? Why didn't you try to push me out?"

"With what?" Harry asked. "What does that mean?"

"You're a wizard. Your mind is the strongest asset you've got. When you want someone out of your head, or out of a particular thought you can push them out. Here, let me show you. Think of something pleasant. Something easy that you don't mind sharing with me. Something non-sexual, please."

Harry eyed her. He didn't want to share anything with her at the moment, but he took a deep breath and thought. Easy? Easy would be something with Ron, probably. Like the two of them playing chess. Harry thought about the first time Ron had showed him wizard's chess, and the wonder Harry had felt. "All right."

"Now, the instant you feel me, I want you to imagine a large hand inside that memory, and force the hand to push me out. You push me away."

Ron's chess board was worn and chipped from years of play by different owners. The black pieces strutted around their little squares while the white yelled frantically up at Harry, begging him to do one move over another, to spare the bishop's pawn.

_So, Ron's good at chess_? Esmerelda thought. _He's a strategist__?_ _He should apply himself more_.

_You sound like Hermione_, Harry told her.

_Push me out_.

He thought about making a large, Hagrid-sized fist, and then all of a sudden he was remembering the first time Hagrid had brought him and Hermione to see Grawp, his giant half-brother. The woods were dark, and they were going in very deep. Harry had the oddest sensation that they were being watched.

_Push me out, Potter!_

Another fist - Grawp's fist - came out of no where, and Harry imagined it sweeping through the memory, knocking Hermione back and down the stairs. She was lying there at the bottom, her legs sprawled in her purple striped pajama bottoms, and Ron was standing over her. "She's dead," he said. "I killed her."

_Push me out, damn it__! _

"I can't see you," Harry said.

_You know I'm here, you can feel me_. _Reach out with the hand and touch me_.

He found her just over his left shoulder. And suddenly Hermione and Ron became Charlie and Tonks, and it was Charlie on the ground next to a fireplace. And he wore nothing but jeans, and he lounged on an elbow with a glass of wine in his hand. His bare chest was covered in ginger hair. Tonks was next to him sitting cross-legged, her hair long and curly and blonde. And she was laughing, and Charlie was smiling at her, and Harry suddenly knew that they'd been lovers.

But of course they'd been lovers. They'd been each others' first. Harry knew that. And then there was an enormous punch to his chest, and Harry flew backwards and hit the wall.

"What was that?"

"That," said Esmerelda, "is what it feels like to be pushed out."

"I was in your head," Harry said. "You were watching Charlie and Tonks."

"The memory isn't important. Did you understand what it felt like when I pushed you? You think you can do that to me?"

"Yeah," Harry said. But it was hard to shake the memory he'd just witnessed. "You were angry that they hadn't told you. And you were jealous of them. I felt it. Why could I feel it? Legilimency deals with memories, doesn't it? Not emotions."

"Memories are laced with emotion. Be careful about interpreting other peoples' emotions," she said. "Isolated memories can easily be taken out of context."

"Is that what this was? That intense jealousy, that anger was taken out of context?" Harry asked.

She gave him a hard look. "No."

"But why were you jealous? It's clear he fancies you."

"It was a long time ago," Esmerelda said. "And nothing is ever clear with him."

"But you could just look in his head-"

"No!" she said sharply. "You can't do that! Harry, you can't ever use what I teach you on Ginny!"

"What?" Her vehemence startled Harry.

"Harry, this is serious. The closer you are to the person, the more dangerous Legilimency becomes. You never use it on a family member, and you never, never use it on someone you love. Ever. Do you understand? You shouldn't use it on Hermione or Ron, but _especially_ not on Ginny."

"But why? Does it mess with the head or something?"

"Very much so," she said. "It messes with the head, with the heart...it becomes something more that Legilimency when love is involved. Making love when you're inside her head, it invokes the old magic. You won't be able to control it, and neither will she. It's addictive and seductive and it destroys you from the inside out."

"But-"

"No!" she shouted, and jumped up from the desk. "I will not teach you anything more unless I have your word that you won't use Legilimency on Ginny!"

"I won't. She's already got a new bloke. We're through."

"Is that what you think?" Esmerelda said.

"Yeah, that's what I think," Harry challenged.

"Then you're an idiot. I've seen the way she looks at you. It's the same way Charlie looks at me. It isn't over. It'll never be over."

"What part of new bloke do you not understand?"

Esmerelda crossed her arms. "Are all my students going to be as difficult as you?"

"I've seen the way Charlie looks at you, too," Harry pressed. "And if memory serves, you gave him a good snogging at the Burrow."

She covered her face with her hand. "Tell me you won't use Legilimency on Ginny, Harry. It's important."

"I won't use Legilimency on Ginny," he promised. "Is that what happened between you and Charlie?"

She dropped her hand and gave him a wary glare. "Enough for today, Potter."

"What happen between you and Charlie?"

Esmerelda shook her head. "Don't ask, Harry. I'm not going to tell you."

"Fine, then." He got up to leave, but just as he reached the door he remembered. "You know, I think Charlie said the exact same thing to me about you."

She stared at him for a moment, and then turned and headed to her office. "I'm sure you're mistaken."

"No," Harry said to himself. "I don't believe I am."


	10. Chapter 9 Distractions

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 9 – Distractions

The sight that greeted Harry when he entered the infirmary the following morning was enough to warm his heart. Ron was in his chair in the same position Harry had left him the night before, holding Hermione's hand. There was a smile of relief on his exhausted face, and a faint smile on hers.

"Thank magic!" Harry breathed, and he rushed to her bedside. Ron happily took the plate Harry offered, while Harry carefully leaned down over Hermione and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Have a good sleep?" he asked.

Her eye had been healed, so she'd been awake long enough for Madame Pomfrey to have seen to her. She looked good, if a little pale and weak. There was life in her smile as she reached out to him. He took her hand.

"You gave Ron, here, a right scare."

"Go on," Ron said as he chewed.

Hermione stretched out her other hand to Ron, who immediately took it. "Go eat a proper meal," she said.

"I'm good." Harry had brought him toast, but hadn't heaped the plate as Ron had been mostly off food since Hermione's accident.

"I want to talk to Harry," she said diplomatically.

Ron's ginger brows knit in confusion. "He's right there."

"Alone, Ron. I want to talk to Harry alone."

Ron's gaze dragged from Hermione to Harry. "Oh." He didn't look at all please with being dismissed, but Harry thought he took it in stride. "I'll just, then…" He motioned toward the door.

Hermione nodded. "Give us ten minutes."

"All right, then." Ron bent over her and kissed her soundly on the lips. She cupped his face, and her fingers lingered over his stubbly cheeks in a way that made the underside of Harry's tongue itch. She loved him so much. Had Ginny ever looked him Harry that way? Would he ever know that depth of love? Would he ever belong to someone the way Ron so obviously belonged to Hermione?

Ron moved suddenly, breaking Harry's rumination. "Don't upset her."

Harry gave him a "who me?" look, and Hermione giggled. It was a wonderful sound. Ron's face lightened.

When he left, Harry took his seat next to her. Day and night, Ron had held her hand in that chair and Harry hardly felt worthy of its uncomfortably hard seat and straight back. Hermione had chosen the right friend to fall in love with. Good for her, he thought with a heavy heart. Good for them both.

She gave him a weak smirk, and he grinned back. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like my head wants to explode. But Madame Pomfrey gave me a potion for it, so it should be fine soon." She yawned fiercely, and then belatedly covered it. "Oh, and it's supposed to make me sleepy, as well."

"I reckon you could use some more sleep."

"Harry," she said, going serious.

He stared down at his knees. He knew what she wanted to talk to him about, and he knew it was best to head her off before she tired herself on a wasted lecture. "Look, if this is about Ginny, she's already got a new bloke. So…so I can't."

"You can't? Can't what?"

"Talk to her. Apologize. Admit my undying love, or rubbish like that. Not that it's rubbish, it's the truth, I reckon, but…well…Ron wanted me to tell her, but I can't. I mean, it's better that she found someone else. Isn't it? Maybe she'll be safer with him, yeah? Less of a target. And, of course, when I go, she won't, you know…miss me."

"Is that really what you think?"

"I think that in less than a day, and with you in here, she already found herself a new boyfriend, so yeah."

"Harry…couldn't you just-"

"No," he said adamantly. "Don't ask me to."

"But what if she-"

"She's made her choice," Harry told her. "She chose Ernie. She deserves someone better, and Ernie is certainly better than me - his being Head Boy, and all."

"She's not happy," Hermione said quietly.

"Well, that's Ernie's problem now," Harry said. "And anyway, she looked happy enough when she was sneaking back _into_ Gryffindor Tower before breakfast."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "She didn't."

"I can assure you that she did." It still made Harry's stomach clench with anger when he thought about it. "Look, I can't talk about her anymore."

She reached out and took his hand. "Then let's change the subject. Ron says you're starting up the DA again."

Honestly, Harry hadn't thought about it since Ron brought it up the day before. "Er…yeah. But I'll need you to plan and organize everything, so we'll wait until you're stronger."

"If you want her, Harry…"

Well, that hadn't taken long. "I'll always want her," he whispered. "She snogged Voldemort, and I still want her. But it's not that simple, is it?"

"It can be," she said.

Harry shook his head. "I was right when I told her that there are things I need to do alone now. I hate that it's happened like this, but maybe…maybe it's for the best after all. If it had to end, at least she has someone." He didn't really feel as magnanimous as he sounded. There were a dozen jinxes Harry knew just off the top of his head that would make Ernie a very miserable Head Boy, indeed.

"Harry-"

"Please, Hermione. I can't."

"But, it's Ginny. You love her. You can't leave things like this. You know you can't. She's not with Ernie because she cares for him-"

"_Then why__?_ Less than a day, Hermione - no. Never mind. I know why. She told me why. Listen, I've got to go. I've got class."

He stood, and she squeezed his hand. "Harry," she said.

He didn't let her finish her thought. "Don't think about it. I'm trying not to. Get some rest. I'll take notes for you in Herbology." She wouldn't let go of his hand. After a gentle tug he sighed. "Hermione…I'll try. I'm glad you're better."

And then she sighed, too, and let him go.

As Harry left the infirmary, he met Ron in the corridor just outside the door. Ron gave him a questioning glance, but didn't stop to talk. Harry was grateful for that.

* * *

After supper that night Ron went back to Gryffindor Tower with Harry to collect some books for Hermione. There was a group of excited students gathered around the common room board.

"A dance?" Harry was horrified. But no matter how he read the announcement, it still read: _Autumnal Equinox Dance! No dress robes required!_

"Brilliant!" Ron said over his shoulder.

"Brilliant?" Harry asked. "But you hate dancing."

"It's all right," Ron said diplomatically. "It's not like it's hard to do or anything, and we don't have to dress. And you get to hold a girl-"

"I get to hold who, exactly?" Harry snapped.

Ron's lips thinned. "You don't have to dance, you know. You can just go. I'm sure there will be food and stuff."

"Great," said Harry. "Another dance I won't be dancing at. Brilliant. And since when do we have an Autumnal Equinox dance? What is that?"

"I remember Charlie and Bill talking about it. Maybe it's something they used to do before we came to Hogwarts."

Harry stomped up the dormitory steps, with Ron behind him. "Just because Dumbledore's gone doesn't mean they can go changing everything!"

"What are you on about? They change it every year."

"No they don't!"

"Really? How many Tri-wizard Tournaments do you remember? How many Yule Balls? How many fancy dress Halloween Spectaculars do you reckon we had?"

"We didn't go to that," Harry said. "We were busy with the DA."

"It still happened," Ron said. "It's not like they cancelled it because we didn't show. And it only happened once. Maybe there's a rotating schedule or something."

Harry gave a moody shrug.

"You're not thinking about skiving off the dance, are you?" Ron asked.

"Maybe. I don't see much point in going. I'll probably have detention that night, anyway."

Ron, rummaging through his trunk for his yet-unopened books, looked over at him. "You got detention again? I thought it was only for a week."

"Yeah, but it's not really detention, is it?" Harry said. "I don't reckon Esmerelda will let me stop lessons just because I'm not in trouble anymore."

"How are those going?" Ron asked. "Are you getting any farther with your Occlumency than you did with Snape?"

"I think so," Harry said, and he flopped down on his bed. Ron's question reminded him he hadn't done his mediation exercise yet. "But it's only the first week. It's difficult to tell."

"Yeah," Ron said. "So, what's Esmerelda like?"

Harry shrugged. "She's a lot like Charlie, if he were perpetually stressed out, and bitchy, and intense with no sense of humor. And a girl."

"Huh," Ron said. "That's what I figured." When he stood he had an armful of books. He kicked the lid of his trunk closed. For a moment he stared longingly at his bed. Then he forced himself up straighter. "See ya', Harry."

Ron was beyond tired, but as Harry stretched out on his bed, he was jealous as he watched his friend leave the room.

* * *

Harry checked on Hermione before class the next day. She was already sitting up, cross-legged on the bed, books open around her, with three rolls of parchment filled beside her. Ron was there, too. He looked worse than she did.

"Oh, good! Harry! I've come up with a list of the previous DA, minus those who have graduated or didn't return, and we're a woefully small group now. But I thought, since we don't have to be so secretive any longer – we don't, do we? – that we might try for open recruitment. And, since we've got a lot going on this year – N.E.W.T. and Horcruxes and the like, I thought we might ask Tonks or Charlie to step in every once in a while to take some of the teaching pressure off you. They've both been in battles, haven't they? They know what it's like. Oh! And I'll need to know about your Quidditch schedule – actually I'll need all the houses' Quidditch schedules – so I can figure out the best time for us to meet. Right now it looks like Tuesday and Sunday nights might work. That's always assuming you won't have detention, of course. Ron said something about your detention being extended. Actually, he said a lot about it. If that's going to be a regular thing, we might think about lunch meetings instead."

Harry looked at Ron, who was still staring off into space. "You all right, mate? Ron?"

Slowly he began to nod.

"He's exhausted. Harry, tell him to get some sleep. He won't listen to me. Ron. Ron, look at me. Ron! I'm all right now. Go to bed."

"Sex?" Ron asked. His eyes were glazed, and his hopeful question was punctuated by a profound yawn.

"Harry?" Hermione pleaded. "A little help?"

* * *

Harry was taking a short cut through the third floor corridor on his way to Charms when he happened on Esmerelda and Percy having a heated conversation. Harry instantly pushed back against the corridor wall, and wedged himself behind the toadstool statue. What were they talking about? He wasn't close enough to make out the words, but Harry reckoned Esmerelda was upset by the way she was moving her arms. Percy kept shaking his head. He was built a lot like his brother Bill, but without the bulk; tall and thin, and all arms and legs. His face was long and plain, and completely humorless.

Then Percy opened his arms, and Esmerelda threw herself at him in a sort of desperate embrace. She was most certainly upset, but not, apparently, at Percy. He held her and stroked her hair as if he'd done it before. Her cheek pressed against his robes, and Harry could see her lips moving as she continued to talk. Percy listened. And if this wasn't odd enough, it was Esmerelda, not Percy who broke the embrace. Harry had never pictured prissy Percy as the nurturing type.

Esmerelda glanced down the hall, and he thought for a long moment that she knew he was there. Had she Read him? He didn't think so – unless she was dishonest about never pushing into his head without him knowing. Then, Esmerelda turned and hurried down the corridor in the opposite direction. Percy started toward Harry, and his stomach sank.

It wasn't as if Harry was in a restricted area – though he was skiving off class – so there wasn't much that Percy could do to him, was there? Of course, Harry had private lessons with Esmerelda, and he had no doubt that she could make his life even more of a living hell than it already was. What would he say when she asked why he was skulking about the castle listening in on private conversations? What would Tonks do when Esmerelda reported his behavior?

But Percy didn't stop when he got to Harry, in fact, he didn't seem to know he was there at all. He walked past, just as Ernie Macmillian sauntered down the hall. They exchanged head nods, and Percy turned at the end of the hall, and Ernie…he glanced around as if to be sure no one was looking, and then he went to the painting across from the enormous arched window, and said hello to the old witch in it doing laundry. She huffed at him, and walked out of the frame, and Ernie – first checking over his shoulder to be sure he was completely alone – knocked five short raps on the door in the painting. There was the sound of something unlocking, and then the entire frame opened, just like the Fat Lady's portrait. Ernie stepped inside and the painting closed behind him.

Harry scarcely had time to ask himself what the Head Boy was doing behind a painting in the third floor corridor when the sound of footsteps caught his attention. Harry turned, and his stomach dropped. There was Ginny hurrying down the corridor just as Ernie had done a minute before. She, too, looked around for witnesses before giving five staccato taps to the door in the exact same painting Ernie had entered. Harry's brain screamed, and then a moment later Harry did, too.

"Ginny!" he called. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

She spun around, shocked and dismayed to see him. "Are you following me?"

"Are you fucking Ernie?"

Her jaw dropped.

"Are you?" Harry demanded.

She turned without a word and stepped through the painting hole. It shut abruptly behind her.

Now what did he do? Did he knock or did he walk away? Did he go in there or did he leave her again? He was a selfish, pathetic, prick of a boy - Ginny had said so. Esmerelda practically agreed. But Esmerelda said he'd made a choice to be so. Did he choose now to be unselfish? Which choice was that? Which choice wasn't the pathetic one? Or less pathetic? At this point Harry would settle for less pathetic.

_Knock_, he told himself. And he did. Five times.

The painting swung open. He was almost surprised when he heard it unlock. Surely a witch as clever as Ginny, with as many brothers as Ginny, who had been discovered on her parents' couch by her mother as Ginny had, would've thought to lock the painting door. But she hadn't. Maybe she wanted him to go after her.

That hope was quickly squashed when Harry stepped through the hole and Ginny began yelling at him. He had no right, she said. Who did he think he was? She said a lot more along those lines, but Harry was momentarily struck deaf by the room. It was filled with books, hundreds upon hundreds of books. They lined the walls, sat stacked in piles taller than Harry. There were magical candles floating near the vaulted, stone ceiling, and heaps of rugs littering the floor. The blue rug at Ernie's feet had pillows and a bottle of wine sitting on it. He had his shirt off, and looked a little sheepish when he saw Harry gaping at him.

"Oh," Ernie said. He scooped up his oxford and quickly slipped it on. "Harry…I didn't expect-"

"_Get_ _OUT!_" Ginny screeched at Harry. He'd never heard her voice go so shrill before. "Get out this instant!"

"Wine?" Harry asked. "It's 10:30 in the morning!" And books? Did Ernie know Ginny at all? If he wanted to bag Hermione he'd do well to bring her there. She'd get off on the books. But Ginny? He should take her down to the trophy room off the Great Hall, or the Quidditch shed. Yeah, the Quidditch shed. She'd go hot for the smell of the leather and broomstick oil.

Ginny raised her wand at Harry. Ernie gave a nervous twitter.

"I'm not going to tell you again, Harry. Get out," Ginny said.

"Or what?" Harry asked. "You'll hex me?"

"I will, Harry! I swear I will!"

Harry shook his head. "No, you won't."

She went from furious to stunned. Her wand wavered in its intent, but her eyes never left Harry's.

Ernie looked between them, and then cleared his throat again. "See here, Potter. We've always gotten on, you and I, and I think you're a good enough bloke, but Ginny and I would like to be alone-"

"Is that what you'd like?" Harry asked Ginny, still holding her gaze. "Do you want to be left alone? With your lover?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked in a pained voice. He was hurting her again.

What was he doing? Was he trying to break them up? Or spoil their tryst? He looked Ernie up and down. What did she see in him? Why would she sleep with him when she barely knew him? And it was plain he didn't know her at all. If Harry hadn't shagged her would she have been so quick to find someone else? Maybe she slept with Tom Riddle, too – maybe he hadn't had to force her.

That thought turned to bile in the back of his throat. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? She'd been _eleven_ when she was attacked by Riddle! And of course he'd forced her – she'd said he had. Four times. She may have willingly snogged Riddle, but she'd been a little girl then. He'd seduced her. Now she was old enough to know what she was doing. And it was clear with the wine and pillows and candles that they weren't just snogging. She was there willingly. Harry had seen her knock on the painting himself. Now she was old enough to want it, and apparently she wanted it from Ernie.

"Slag," Harry spit out, and he turned to go. He was hit hard on the back of the head and went crashing to the ground. His nose felt like it was splitting open, and great, slimy bogies flew out of his nostrils. They sprouted wings and began to batter him, scratch him about the head. Harry closed his eyes, covered his face, and then pulled out his wand and cast a Shield Charm over himself. By the time he recovered enough to sit up Ginny was gone.

Ernie stood near the door. Through the din of Bat Bogies bludgeoning the Shield, he said, "You deserved that."

"Piss off," Harry snapped.

"What is your problem, Potter? I know you dated her last year, but I thought you two were friends. She's your best mate's sister." Ernie ran his hand through his wavy, dark fringe and it still looked perfectly coifed. Was that what Ginny liked? A bloke who always looked put together? A bloke whose hair didn't have a mind of its own?

"You'd best stay away from her," Ernie warned.

"Or what? You'll fight me?"

"Ginny can fight for herself, I'd say," Erne smirked. "My girl's got spirit."

"She's not your girl!" Harry shouted. "You barely know her!"

"She's more mine than yours, don't you think?" Ernie asked. "Judging from where I'm standing, and you're sitting? I don't know what happened between you two, she wouldn't say. But from this little display I reckon that she decided to end things and you didn't take kindly to that."

"I ended it!" Harry insisted.

"Then you were a fool."

Harry couldn't argue with that.

"I've got no quarrel with you, Potter, but it seems Ginny has. And if you continue to upset her, you're going to have to deal with the both of us."

Harry raised his chin. It was a defiant gesture he'd seen Ginny make a hundred times. "I'm not scared of you," Harry told him. "I've faced down worse that the likes of you."

Ernie's thick brows rose. "Of that I have no doubt. And still, I say again, upset Ginny and you upset the both of us. Two against one, Harry. Your ex and her new boyfriend – is that really a battle you want to fight?"

"Did you shag her?" Harry demanded.

"Did you?" Ernie returned.

Harry wasn't going to win this. He'd seen enough duels in his life to know when he was on the losing side. Ginny chose Ernie. She was with him because she wanted to be. And Charlie was right when he called her tenacious; it wasn't like Harry's constant meddling was going to stop her from sleeping with Ernie if she really wanted to.

"You don't know, Ernie. Please. Please, if you haven't already…I know she acts tough, like she's indestructible, but she's not. Just be gentle. Be careful with her." It broke Harry's heart to say the words. It was the only way he could think to protect her.

"Eh?" Ernie said. "Like you were just now? Yeah, I get it." Then he walked out in disgust.

* * *

It took Madame Pomfrey no time at all to right the cuts and bruises from Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex. He'd thought not to heal them at all and wear them like penance, but then he would have to answer endless questions that he'd just as soon avoid. Unfortunately, Hermione was still in the infirmary.

"Harry!" Hermione harshly whispered when Madame Pomfrey finally left them alone. "What happened?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it.

"It was Ginny, wasn't it?" Hermione said. "I'll talk to-"

"No!" Harry snapped. "Stay out of it!"

Hermione crossed her arms. "It's obvious you need my help."

"No, I don't! Not with this. Not with Ginny. With the DA, yes, and with finding the Horcruxes and Godric's Hollow-"

"Godric's Hollow?" The deep male voice made Harry jump and he turned to see Charlie had come into the infirmary. "Now why would you be looking for Godric's Hollow?"

Harry froze, and he felt Hermione's tension as she hesitantly asked, "You've heard of Godric's Hollow?"

"I should hope so," Charlie said. He causally pointed his wand over his shoulder and Imperviused the door. "I've been there."

"You have?" Harry's heart jumped. "When?

"Where is it?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, it's somewhere in the east of England," Charlie said vaguely, and Harry threw Hermione a pointed look. "But I think the real question is why do you want to know? Harry, are you planning a holiday? It's not a place of sun, I can tell you that."

"My parents are buried there."

"I know," Charlie said. "I saw their graves."

Harry's heart began to thump. Charlie was there. Charlie _knew_. And suddenly a hundred different possibilities began to blossom in his head. If Charlie knew about Godric's Hollow, what else did he know? He was the Order's Secret Keeper, after all. He was a wizard who knew things. Why hadn't Harry considered that before?

"So, Godric's Hollow. Ron knows about it, too? Who else?"

"Ginny," Harry admitted. "Just the four of us."

"It's never just fun and games with you lot, is it?"

"If you've been there, you can take us," Hermione said.

"No."

"Or you can show us on a map. I've got a map of England here, somewhere." She began to rifle through her books.

"Hermione, wait. I can't."

"You're not going to help me?" Harry asked. He should've known better. "No, don't tell me. It's for my own good, isn't it?"

"Easy, Harry."

"Charlie, I need to see Godric's Hollow! I need to be there! You can't stop me, you know. I have a right to see it! I was there when it happened, after all. They were my parents! I have the scar!"

"I'm not going to stop you, Harry," Charlie said. "And I agree that you have a right to see it. I'll do you one better: I think it would be good for you to see it. It could help ground you a little. That's why Dumbledore took me there."

Harry's jaw dropped.

"Dumbledore took you there?" Hermione asked.

"As a ride-along. The whole village is protected by a spell now, and the only people who can Apparate there are the people who had actually Apparated there before…well, that night." Charlie considered Harry for a moment, as if he was trying to size up if he was ready to hear more.

Hermione wasn't willing to be patient. "When did Dumbledore take you there? Haven't you been in Romania?"

"Just before I went to Romania. I was very young – your age, actually," he said to Harry. "And very impetuous…a little like you." He smiled encouragingly. "Dumbledore approached me, filled my head so full of ideas of adventure and heroics – I was going to go to an exotic land, undercover, to fight the darkest, most nefarious evil the magical world had ever produced! And I was hand-picked to do it! I had the courage, and the bullocks, but not the benefit of experience. I'd never fought in a single duel, never cast a Shield Spell in true self-defense. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. So, Dumbledore took me to Godric's Hollow."

Charlie took a deep breath, and he leaned forward, elbows on knees. "It's a sobering place, Godric's Hollow. A lot has happened there. More than what you think, Harry."

"Was Esmerelda there, too?" Harry asked. "You said you met her the night Dumbledore asked you to go to Romania."

"What?" Hermione gasped. "When did he tell you that?" She glared accusingly at Harry.

Charlie shook his head. "I met Mere later that night. Merlin, what a night! I went from Dumbledore's proposal, to Godric's Hollow, to Esmerelda, to Romania, to that blasted duel with her bloody family, to the hot springs..."

"She's a Wizmere," Hermione said slowly. She looked down at a pile of books, and carefully pulled out a small, thin volume. "I've been…reading…" She flipped through to a page that had been marked, and she passed the book to Charlie. He looked at the page and nodded. "Then you know."

"Of course I know," he said. "There's very little about Mere that I don't know."

Harry wondered if he knew that Percy had been comforting Esmerelda quite familiarly in the third floor corridor. Somehow he rather doubted Charlie did.

"Hermione," Charlie said, and then he stopped. For a moment he stared at his fist, and Hermione raised her brows at Harry in question. Then he sighed. "Yes, her parents were Death Eaters – are still Death Eaters, as far as I know – and she doesn't apologize for that. It's why she insists on using her last name. Wizmere. Not exactly a common name, that. So, I reckon it's a matter of time before the other students begin to make accusations. But they don't need this," he held up the closed book, "to help them along, do they?"

"Of course I won't say anything," Hermione assured.

"Thanks for that," Charlie said.

"Godric's Hollow," Harry pressed. "You may not know exactly where it is, but you can give us landmarks. You said it was in the east of England, so you must know something."

"There were mapins nesting in the bumblic bushes, and I remember commenting how in June they only ever nest in the east. That about the extent of what I know." Charlie ran a hand over the scar on the side of his face, and it puckered as it stretched. He studied Harry. "Incidentally, Harry, how are your lessons with Professor Wizmere going? Are you learning loads?"

"Loads," Harry agreed. More than he wanted to know about Charlie, that was for sure.

"And she seems to be adjusting well to Hogwarts?"

The question felt a bit odd to Harry. Were they avoiding each other? "All right, I reckon," Harry said.

"Good enough," Charlie said with a false cheerfulness.

When he left Hermione turned on Harry like a cat on a mouse. "Did he really think I would spread gossip about Professor Wizmere's family all over the school? Honestly! What else do you know about her? How many of these little chats have you had with Charlie? What else aren't you telling me? What if it's something important, Harry? What if it's something I need to know? Don't you want my help?"

"Of course I do. It's just that…things are a little different now than they were," Harry began. "We're older now. We're not children anymore. And you and Ron, well…you have each other. And…and I'm taking these lessons with Esmerelda, and I've promised her to keep certain secrets-"

Hermione gasped. "Not from us, surely. Not that much has changed, Harry, that you're keeping secrets from me and Ron."

"You don't understand," Harry said. "The Legilimency, it's very…intimate."

Hermione's brows rose in a sort of shocked concern. Her voice was quiet. "I thought you were learning Occlumency."

"I am. It's just that the two are very…connected, and I'm in her head a lot, and she's in mine..."

Hermione stared down at her knees. "I see."

"There are just some things that I can't talk about. You know, about her."

"But, Harry, surely this can't be right. Surely a teacher can't make you…keep those kinds of secrets, not if you don't want to. It's not right, Harry. How intimate?"

"Really, it's not so bad. It's better than it was with that traitor Snape."

Her eyes went even wider. "Snape? Harry, you're not telling me that he made you-"

"I don't want to talk about this," he said sharply. He hadn't expected Hermione to understand, really, but he had hoped she might reach some sort of acceptance. It wasn't as if he was keeping the location of the missing Horcruxes from her. It was just relationship nonsense that Harry wished he didn't even know. Who bloody cared about Esmerelda and Charlie and Tonks, anyway? "None of this stuff is important. I'd tell you the important things."

She didn't seem convinced.

* * *

That evening there was another group gathered around the common room board. Harry pushed his way through to read the new flyer.

"What?" Harry cried. "She can't cancel Quidditch!"

"It's an outrage!" Ginny's angry voice beside him made him jump. She'd snuck up beside him, and he hadn't realized she was there. His heart raced. "You've got to do something, Harry! You're the Gryffindor Captain, and she used to be our House Head, she'll listen to you. This is so bloody unfair!"

Harry was torn between the outrage of having Quidditch cancelled and the wonder that Ginny was standing there talking to him as if she hadn't Bat Bogey Hexed the hell out of him that morning. He wanted to be angry at her – she had snuck off to that book closet with Ernie, after all, and the pillows, and the wine-

"Harry, you'll talk to her?"

He found himself nodding at her. "You really think Professor McGonagall will listen to me?"

"If not you, then who?" Ginny asked.

And then they stood there and stared at each other. Harry tried to look away, or think of something to say, but his brain went blank. She really was lovely, all ginger and ivory and freckles. He felt as if he hadn't seen her in weeks, though he knew that wasn't even remotely true. He missed her.

"Ginny…I'm sorry. And…well…I reckon I shouldn't have…it's none of my business…"

She didn't respond, but went back to glaring at the flyer again. "It's not fair," she said again, though Harry got the distinct impression she wasn't talking about Quidditch.

Harry quietly agreed.

* * *

Esmerelda wasn't in the Defense classroom when Harry arrived, and the room wasn't set up. For a moment or two Harry tried to convince himself to hurry back to the common room and count himself lucky to have a night off. But then, the idea of Esmerelda marching to Gryffindor Tower to drag him down to his lesson had him reconsidering. In any event, it wasn't long before he heard voices coming down the corridor.

"That's bullshit. Honestly, Charlie, what are the odds that Death Eaters will storm the castle?" It was Esmerelda.

"They stormed the castle last June," Tonks said. "They killed Dumbledore."

"That was here?" Esmerelda said. "Fuck me! And they reopened the school? What the hell, Charlie? You knew this?"

"What? Nym knew, too! Why don't you shout at her some?" He was scowling as they walked into the classroom.

"Potter. Good," Esmerelda said. "You can make my point for me. You like Quidditch, don't you?"

"Sure," Harry said.

"Yes, of course you do. All European wizards do. Why, I'll never know." Esmerelda brushed a heavy lock of hair behind her shoulder and aimed her wand at the center of the now cleared room to conjure the green mat. "I bet you play, too," she said.

"Yeah," Harry told her. "I'm captain for the Gryffindor team."

She threw a knowing look at Charlie. "What a shock."

"Mere," Charlie said. "It's just not safe. We'd need every Auror in the Ministry on the scale of the last Quidditch World Cup just to organize the kind of security it would require to keep the castle grounds safe-"

"They need a distraction, Charlie. _This_ one needs a distraction!" She pointed at Harry. "What do you think is going to happen if you keep a castle full of hormone driven teenagers cooped up for an entire year? Better O.W.L. scores? I think not! You're going to have rampant teen pregnancies! Brawling in the halls!"

"She may have a point," Tonks said quietly to Charlie.

"Oh, not you, too," he groaned. "Harry, you're not going to knock anyone up, are you?"

"Please!" Esmerelda snorted. "This one is just as bad as the rest of them. All sex, all the time!"

"Oi!" Harry protested. "What happened to I keep your secrets, you keep mine?"

"You're horny, Harry, it's not a secret. You're seventeen. It's a biological imperative." Esmerelda turned back to Charlie. "I can't teach him like this. His head is a mine field. Every memory, every thought in his head is sexy or about sex."

Charlie scoffed. "I can't imagine you shying away from sexual thoughts."

Esmerelda glared at him. "I don't want to know what your little sister's nipples taste like."

Charlie's head whipped to Harry, and he felt the full strength of accusing eyes on him.

"Yeah, well," Harry fought back, "I don't want to know what his mouth feels like on my neck, or his hands on my bum, but that's a memory I'm going to have burned into my brain for the rest of my days, isn't it?" Harry's cheeks went red as understanding filtered through Charlie's angry expression, and it softened to a terrified sort of horror. He'd made his point.

"Oh, bloody hell, Mere."

"It was an accident! OK? He got me going, and it just came back to me." Her deep voice went a little shrill.

"You have to control that!"

"Oh, thank you very much, Charlie. I didn't realize that, but now that you've told me-"

Charlie barked something in a throaty Romanian, and Esmerelda snapped back.

"English!" Tonks insisted. "I don't want to have to hose you down!"

"Headmistress McGonagall has made her decision," Charlie said, sternly. "Quidditch is cancelled this year. It's the right choice for Hogwarts."

"Whatever. I don't give a flying fuck about Quidditch," Esmerelda said. "Come up with something else that the kids can focus on. Something to physically exhaust them." Her critical eyes wandered over to Harry. "Something to put some muscle on that one."

"Like what?" Charlie demanded.

"What about a dueling club?" Tonks asked.

Charlie's head whipped to Tonks and a slow smile spread across his face. "Like when we were in school? I thought the idea was to _distract_ them from sexual tension." Esmerelda's dark eyes narrowed on him.

"We could divide the students by house, and have team competitions throughout the year," Tonks continued, ignoring Charlie's comment. "It will reinforce the school work, and give them something to focus on."

"Would we learn Shield Spells?" Harry asked. "Powerful ones?"

The three teachers looked at him for a moment, as if they'd forgotten he was even in the room.

"Not half!" Tonks said.

"What about other spells? Attacking Spells that the Ministry doesn't want us to learn?" Harry asked. "When I'm face to face with Voldemort I can't just Jelly-Legs him."

"Of course you can't!" Esmerelda insisted. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Now wait," Charlie said.

"We have to tread lightly here," Tonks agreed. "I'm Ministry, you know."

"Well, I'm not," Esmerelda snapped. "Harry needs an arsenal of spells."

"No dark magic, Mere," Charlie warned.

"There's dark magic, and then there's useful magic," Esmerelda said diplomatically.

"_Mere_," Charlie warned. "They're just kids. He's still seventeen."

"Not if you've been in his head, he's not!"

"_MERE!_"

"All right! Shit! You're such a fucking nag." She turned and sized up Harry. "Have you been practicing your mediation?"

Harry sucked up the courage and laid it all out on the table. "Er…have any of you ever heard of Dumbledore's Army?"


	11. Chapter 10 Secrets in the Night

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 10 – Secrets in the Night

It was painfully early that Sunday morning that Harry found himself padding down the dormitory steps still in his pajamas, wishing he was asleep like his dorm mates. Ron woke him with a nightmare at around two, and Harry hadn't been able to drop off to sleep after. They hadn't talked about it. Harry had simply snuck over to Ron's bed and shook his shoulder until Ron sat up and, with wild eyes, had checked his arms. Harry knew he'd been dreaming about the Department of Mysteries again. The thin, white scars the brains had left him with still crisscrossed from his wrists to shoulders.

"Hermione?" Ron had eked out through rapid breaths.

"She's good," Harry had assured him. "Remember? She's recovered. She's sleeping."

Ron had nodded, and then dropped back into his pillow, but it still took him almost an hour to fall back asleep, and Harry had waited quietly on his own bed for the comforting sound of Ron's relaxed snore before he grabbed his pillow and decided to head down to the common room. If he was awake, he might as well get some meditation in, he reasoned. And maybe it would relax him enough to catch a few more hours before breakfast.

Harry almost tripped down the last two steps when he realized Ginny was sitting on the floor in front of the fire. He held his breath while he watched her, wondering if he should sneak back up to his dorm and leave her alone. But she didn't look as if she was crying or anything, and Harry couldn't seem to force his feet back on the stairs. It was late, and he was tired. He wanted to see her face. He missed the sound of her voice.

"You good?" Harry asked quietly from the staircase, not wanting to startle her.

She sighed, and then nodded. "How did you know I was down here?"

"Do you want to be alone?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, still looking at the fire. Her hair was a brilliant copper in the warm light.

Harry took that as an invitation, and dropped his pillow on a chair before seating himself next to her. "Can't sleep either?"

"I'm the only girl in my year in Gryffindor who came back. I'm all alone in the dorm room. It's…unsettling."

"Because of…your first year here." He didn't know why he was compelled to spell it out. She'd already made it clear that Riddle had attacked her repeatedly in her dorm. "How have you been managing?"

"I stayed in the Head Girl's room while Hermione was in hospital," Ginny told him.

"She's been back for days."

"I know."

"How long has it been since you had a good night's sleep?"

She shrugged. "The couch is surprisingly comfortable if you're tired enough," she quipped. "No worries."

"Come, on," Harry said, and he stood. She didn't move. "Ginny." He tapped her shoulder. "You can sleep in my bed."

If ever there was a look of incredulity, Ginny wore it then. "You've gone stark, raving."

"I'm serious," Harry said. "You can draw the curtains. We have an unspoken understanding in our dorm. No one will bother you."

"And where will you sleep?" she asked. "It's not like you can go up to my bed."

"I hear the couch is surprisingly comfortable," Harry said with a grin. "Come on." He took her hand and pulled her up. He was taken aback by how little she weighed.

"Harry, this is a bad idea. What if I get caught?"

"We won't," he assured. "In seven years not one of us has ever broken the closed curtain code." Not even when Seamus got loud. "It'll be fine."

"Ernie wouldn't like it."

"If Ernie cares anything about you, he'd want you to sleep," Harry said, pulling her up the stairs. How could she argue that logic? She went willingly enough. "If I was Neville, Ernie wouldn't mind. He knows Neville's not a threat."

"Are you saying you're not a threat, then?" If she wasn't so anxious Harry might've thought she was flirting.

"Not if you don't want me to be," Harry said evenly. She didn't respond.

Harry poked his head in the room, but was greeted with the expected sounds of young wizards sleeping. Slowly he pulled Ginny in after him, lighting his wand, and watched as she climbed up on his mattress. His eyes lingered on her round bum. Pale blue knickers peaked out over her pajama bottoms. When she turned and sat on her heels, Harry offered her a warm smile.

"Sleep tight," he whispered, then pulled one curtain closed. Her hand shot up and stopped him from closing the other.

Her grip on his wrist was incredibly strong, and she tugged him to her. He went willingly, not understanding. Did she want to say something to him? Whisper something? He climbed in after her, and once he was clear of the curtains she pulled out her wand and shut them all.

"Ginny," Harry began, but she slammed her hand over his mouth so hard he grunted at the impact.

"Wha'?" It was Dean's voice. "Oh, come on, Potter! Quiet down in there! And turn off the light. That's disgusting! You don't need to see what you're doing!" Harry immediately extinguished his wand. Then there was the sound of Dean rolling over and muttering under his breath until once again soft snores came from that side of Harry's bed.

In the dark Harry felt Ginny's small hand on his shoulder, pulling him toward the top of the bed. She pressed him down into the mattress, and he felt her settle beside him. Her hair tickled the top of his arm, but that was the only place she continued to touch him. And still, he felt as if every cell in his body was aware of her. When the blankets came up and over them both, Harry's heart rate shot up, as did another part of his anatomy.

When the sun began to filter through the bed curtains, Harry realized he wasn't the only one who hadn't slept a wink. Ginny lay there on her side, looking at him, just as he was looking at her.

* * *

"But…but…" Harry knew it was going to be bad when Hermione stared at the common room board and began stammering. "Harry? Harry!" She turned to him, her eyes blazing. "But what have you done?"

"Er…" He'd forgotten to tell her that he mentioned the DA to Charlie and the rest of them.

"I thought…but…you asked _me_ to help." Her anger was quickly giving way to hurt, and Ron popped his head up from the Quidditch magazine he'd been flipping through when her voice wavered a little with emotion. The shouting hadn't gotten his attention, but her distress had.

"Oi!" Ron said, hurrying over. "What is it, then?"

Hermione pointed to the board, and the brightly colored DA flyer posted there. "He's called a meeting for the DA on Friday night. Did you know anything about this?"

"Not me," Ron was quick to assure.

"I didn't know about it, either," Harry added, which was the absolute wrong thing to say.

"You had nothing to do with this?" she demanded. "There's a rogue DA member calling meetings and inviting the whole bloody school?"

Ron sucked in a breath at Hermione's slip, and a wicked smile curled the corners of his mouth.

Harry jutted out his jaw, and tried to ignore him. "Of course not. I may have mentioned it to Charlie and Tonks and the rest of them–"

"Tonks?" Hermione practically shrieked. "You've asked for her help? With the DA? But…but she's a _teacher_! She's going to turn it into a club or something!"

"Well, yeah. Like a dueling club," Harry said. "You're the one who suggested open recruitment, and bringing Tonks and Charlie in to help. Remember?"

"A dueling club?" She spat it out with the same skeptical disgust one might reserve for a Draco Malfoy fan club. "You've gone mad!"

"You said yourself that I've a lot going on this term. We've all got a lot going on, and this will help take some of the pressure off-"

"The DA, Harry. Dumbledore's Army! It's not _Defensive Arts_!" She ripped the flyer off the wall and waved it at him. "We didn't go to the Department of Mysteries as a _dueling_ _club_! We learned serious magic with the DA! We went underground and thwarted authority, we fought for the knowledge we had a right to know, and we did it on our terms! And now you're announcing it to the whole school? You're letting the teachers lead?"

"Whose authority do you want to thwart, exactly? McGonagall's? And what aren't they teaching us? If the professors are leading-"

Hermione shook her head. "It's the DA! It's ours!"

"Don't you mean yours?" Harry challenged.

Hermione's face dropped. "I mean ours. Yours and mine and Ron's."

"Are you mad because Tonks will be teaching? Because I'm not," Harry told her. "You may have learned loads with the DA, but I didn't. And I, of all people, need to know as much magic as possible."

"I don't care about who teaches," Hermione said.

"Then it's because it's not a secret anymore?" Harry asked. "You also said open enrollment – you said it didn't need to be a secret anymore."

"It's because you gave it away, and it wasn't yours to give," Hermione said.

"No," Ron said, so quiet Harry wasn't entirely sure he'd said anything at all. And then Ron looked up at Hermione, he met her gaze and said calmly, "It's because he asked someone else for help."

"But he asked me _first_!" she wailed. "Tonks wasn't here! She doesn't know! And he's letting her run the DA! They've turned Dumbledore's Army into a Defensive Arts dueling club! Don't you care?"

Ron looked from Hermione to Harry. "I want to learn, too. I need to know what to do in every situation, and if that means Tonks is running the DA, then…well…at least I'll be prepared."

"Prepared for what exactly?" Hermione asked.

"Voldemort," Ron told her. "Death Eaters. Horcruxes."

"Falls down stone steps?" Hermione supplied. "Ron, that was an accident-"

He gave a sharp jerk of his head, and she fell silent. Red faced, Ron stared hard at her shoulder for a moment, his mouth nothing more than a thin line. "Harry's right," he said quietly. "We're not in fifth year any more. This is real."

"What does that mean?" Hermione demanded.

Ron finally met her gaze. "It means that it's life and death now, and I'm not going to lose you."

Her face softened, saddened. "Oh, Ron. You won't-"

"I don't care who's running the DA. I don't care who's posting the adverts, or even if Harry asked Percy for help. If something happens – when something happens – I want to know what to do."

And that was that. Hermione gave Harry a frustrated groan, and then took Ron by the hand and led him back to the couch by the fireplace. They sat together for a while not talking. They worked on their Herbology essay together, and Harry watched from across the room, doing his own homework, thinking about the DA and falls down stairs, and Ginny.

* * *

Double Potions was the last class of the week, and as Harry walked out behind Ron and Hermione he couldn't help but think back to simpler times when he might've found comfort in the approaching weekend. Now he had a lesson with Esmerelda, and the first DA meeting of the year, followed by hours and hours of homework and essays, and still more lessons before Monday morning's Herbology came around again.

Harry was exhausted. In the six nights Ginny had been sleeping in his bed, he'd barely closed his eyes. Every time she moved or breathed funny he was wide-awake again, heart hammering, cock throbbing, aching to touch her. Harry knew why Ron called it a cock now; it was up before the sun.

Ginny was sleeping well, though, so he couldn't begrudge her a place next to him. And he certainly couldn't send her back to an empty dorm room alone. He told himself it was selfless to keep Ginny next to him at night, that it was for her benefit alone. It was a hard thing to believe, and still, he snuck her in every night.

"Harry? I said, don't you agree?" Hermione was walking backwards in front of him as they made their way down the corridor. She looked at him expectantly.

Harry hadn't a clue what she was on about. "Yeah," he said.

"I mean, honestly! Ten points! For not reading the chapter in class? But I'd already read the chapter! What's the point of reading it again?" She was still fuming, but not as much as Ron, who had less to say, but was twice as red.

"Bloody bugger," Ron said.

"Ron, don't swear." Her reprimand was almost automatic. Harry wondered if either of them heard it anymore.

"_'You will address me as Mr. Weasley or sir,'_" Ron mimicked. "What the bloody hell is _that_? I'll address him as wanker, that's what I'll do!"

"Oh, Ron," Hermione admonished.

"What? He sighted you for reading ahead in the book! Like he'd never done that before! And he called you a brown nose! As if you'd suck up to a bloody waster like him!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, too tired to form any real argument.

But Ron was right. Prissy Percy aside, Double Potions had been unnecessarily brutal. Without the traitor Snape or Malfoy at Hogwarts, it should've been all bliss and joy. Who would've guessed that now that Ron had Hermione, and Neville was no longer taking Potions, that Harry would be paired with the only other partner-less student in the class. Ernie Macmillian. Harry nearly choked on the irony of Ernie's, "No hard feelings, Potter. Shall we share?"

It had been a long, long hour and a half of Harry struggling with the recipe of a N.E.W.T. level potion, a condescending professor, and the knowledge that Ginny was shagging his Potions partner even while she would sleep soundly, if chastely, in Harry's bed that night. And why did Ernie have to be such a stand-up bloke? It was difficult to hate him. Hell, it was difficult not to admire him. Ginny was right. Ernie was better than Harry, and he was in every way the boyfriend she deserved. Harry was rubbish.

"Oi, there, Harry. You all right, mate?" Ron studied him closely, put a hand to Harry's shoulder. "You don't look right."

"Good," Harry lied.

"We've some time before Defense this afternoon," Hermione said, now just as concerned at Ron. "Why don't you have a lie down? I'll look over your Charms homework for you." As she was aware that he hadn't yet finished his Charms homework, he rather thought she was offering to do it for him.

"No, I'm good," Harry insisted. He didn't want to be coddled. He didn't want their compassion. He was sharing a bed with Ernie's girlfriend, breaking any number of school rules in the process, and he knew he had no intention of willingly ending it.

"Dinner, then?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. There was no way his stomach would accept food at the moment. "I think I'll just go back to the library and start on the Transfiguration assignment."

"But…but that's not due until next week," said Ron.

"Is it your scar?" Hermione said quickly, in hushed tones.

"No, it's not my bloody scar! Why do you always assume – look, I don't ask you if it's your menses every time you're in a mood, do I?" He pushed past her, and stormed up the stairs.

And, as he rounded the corner and started up the Grand Stair Ginny was coming down. They both hesitated. Her face was neutral, and Harry thought he could drink her up. But then Ernie called out to her, and her gaze flipped away, like a casually cast spell, and she walked past him. Harry didn't turn. He walked slowly up to Gryffindor Tower, his Transfiguration forgotten, and lay face down on his bed until it was time for class.

* * *

It was later that night that Harry dragged himself to the Defense classroom after supper to find Esmerelda setting up the room.

"Oh," Harry said. "I thought it was almost…isn't tonight the DA? I thought our lesson wasn't until-"

"Tonks is busy tonight. Charlie and I are covering the DA for her."

"Busy? It's the first DA meeting," Harry said. Esmerelda met his gaze, but didn't offer any explanations. "Is it Order?"

"If it was, you know I couldn't answer that, Harry," Esmerelda said.

"Or is it Lupin?" Harry asked. Her expression gave it away. "Oh, bloody brilliant. We're supposed to have our first DA meeting and she's out having a shag!"

"They're happy, Harry. You can't begrudge them that."

He shook his head. "It's not fair. Everyone's shagging but me."

"Not everyone," she said dryly. "But yeah, it does feel that way sometimes, doesn't it?"

The DA that night was made up of all the students interested in extracurricular spell work from all four houses, open to third years and up. Nearly everyone turned up, which, in retrospect wasn't very surprising at all considering the climate of the Magical world. One would have to be oblivious or a serious loafer not to jump at the opportunity to get some practical defensive work in.

Everyone nervously gathered on the thick green mat. Students were quickly paired off to practice some basic hexes and counter hexes on each other. Ron was matched with Hermione, and Harry with Ginny. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked very serious, and her gaze kept flickering over to Ernie, who'd been paired with Luna.

"Want to switch partners, do you?" Harry asked, his wand already up, ready for her strike.

Her eyes lit up, and she raised her wand at him. "I'm quite happy with the bloke I've got," she said.

This left Harry grinning. "The bloke you've got now?" He glanced across the room at Ernie, who was already sending a volley of hexes at Luna. Harry was proud to see Luna was easily Shielding against them. "Looks like I'm the bloke you've got now," he quipped. "Your boyfriend's busy at the moment."

"You wish, Potter," she snapped, but there was the smallest of smiles at the corner of her mouth.

"I reckon I won't have to wish for too long," Harry almost whispered. With the crash and bang of spells going off around them he doubted anyone could hear them, even if they were listening, but he took a few steps toward her anyway, and bent in close to her when he added: "I know where you'll be sleeping tonight."

Her cheeks blushed furiously, her eyes flashed. "Don't be so sure," she quipped.

Harry raised his brows. "No? Found a way into Hufflepuff past the Aurors, have you?"

She looked more annoyed, and shot the Locklegs Jinx at him. It was a first year spell, and Harry effortlessly deflected it. "Bloody berk," she said.

"Come on, Ginny. You've done me better than that," he said.

"In your dreams," she hissed.

"In my dreams, on your parents' couch, in your bed-"

She cast again, this time with a Severing Spell that took quick reflexes and a Shield Spell to deflect.

"Ginny! Good!" came Esmerelda's call from across the room.

A twisted smile grew across Ginny's face, transforming her beautiful mouth into something almost mean. She took aim and shot a series of spells at Harry, hard and fast and well-aimed. He jumped and dove, he Shielded, and then he had to cast back just to slow her down. He started with _Expelliarmus_, but she cast a spell Harry had never heard before, and Harry's spell was thrown to the right and hit Hermione square between the shoulders, knocking her to the ground. Ron's fury was instant and palpable, and he dove for Hermione while shooting off a Pummel Curse that managed to get past Ginny's defenses. She flew backwards into Neville, and the two of them landed off the mat, and on the hard stone floor. Ginny rolled off her friend, but the wind was knocked out of her, and she curled on her side cradling her belly. Harry rushed to her, slid to a stop on his knees beside her.

Ron was helping Hermione up, and Harry reached for Ginny, but her breath came back to her in one enormous gulp and she hexed him with Burning Boils. Harry fell away from her, his skin on fire. He screwed his eyes shut against the pain, and bit off a yelp. And then, just as suddenly as he was hit, the pain went away. Harry blinked up at Charlie, who stood above him with an offered hand. Harry, aching and winded, took the help, but still had trouble getting to his feet. His head was spinning.

Ginny stood too, a protective arm across her middle. The rest of the class watched silently, waited.

Charlie's face was uncharacteristically somber, as he eyed both Ginny and Harry. Esmerelda, on the other hand, was beaming.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen," she announced to the class, "is how you duel."

* * *

He wasn't surprised when Ginny didn't come to his bed that night, but he couldn't help his disappointment. As exhausted as Harry was, he couldn't relax enough to doze, so once the clock tower chimed midnight Harry pushed his sore body from bed and padded barefoot down to the common room. She was on the floor in front of the fireplace, just as he expected her to be. Her knees were drawn up, her ankles crossed, her arms were loosely looped around her legs.

Without turning, she said, "Looking for Ron, are you?" Her voice was like a balm to his nerves.

"Ron?" The urge to touch her flooded him, and he found himself taking a step back just to keep from reaching out and running his fingers over her smooth hair.

"He went up to her room a bit ago," she said. "Was worried I hurt her in the DA. When did he turn in to such a _girl_?"

"Probably when he knocked her down the stairs and almost bloody killed her. Can't say I'm exactly over that myself."

Ginny did turn now, and when her gaze met his he felt it like a dagger through his chest. "Going to go up and check on her, too, then? She's Head Girl. She's got her own stair."

"She's all right, isn't she?" Harry asked.

"_She's all right_? She was hit with _Expelliarmus_, for Merlin's sake! I was the one hit in the stomach with a Pummel Curse! But no one's worried about me, are they? No one's rushing up to my dorm to make sure I'm all right!"

"I came down here to see that you're all right," Harry said. "You're all right, aren't you?"

She scowled. "Oh, go check on Hermione. I know you want to." Then she turned back to the fire.

"Maybe I'll sit with you a bit-" Harry began, but she cut him off.

"I'd rather you didn't."

Harry swallowed. "All right, then. Come up to bed."

She sighed, and her shoulders seemed to deflate. "No. We can't do that anymore."

"Do what?" Harry asked. "We weren't doing anything."

"You know that's not true. That's why you said what you said in the DA tonight."

"I was just taking the mickey."

"I know," said Ginny. "And still…even though we weren't doing anything…I just can't anymore."

"What are you going to do?"

She shrugged. "I'll figure something out. Go see to Hermione. Then get some sleep. You look exhausted."

"Maybe Hermione will let you bunk with her for a bit," Harry suggested.

"I'm fine," she protested.

"I'll ask her anyway," he said, and headed back up the stairs. Halfway up, he took the door to the Head Girl's room. He'd never been in there before – in fact, this was the first time since Harry had been at Hogwarts that there was a Head Girl in Gryffindor, and so the door and the stair were completely new. It was odd that it wasn't at least password protected. At the moment Harry was grateful.

The top landing was like a corridor of its own, with a thick rug and a few paintings of flowers sitting in pots. One of them had a bowl of fish. The thick wood door near the end was open. Harry froze as soon as he walked inside, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

Ron was starkers, but Harry barely registered that he was there. It was Hermione, lying stretched out on her bed, bare and pale, that captured the attention of every cell in his body. Her hair was fluffy and soft thrown above her head, her arms were flung up in her hair leaving her breasts exposed like fried eggs on her ribcage. Her stomach fell away to a flat plane that curved over her belly just before it sloped down into the dark triangle of curls at her legs. Knees bent, thighs flush, she gasped shallow breaths through open lips making a sound that went straight to Harry's cock. Her hips worked a little, her bare feet dug into the mattress. She was in ecstasy, and so very lovely.

Her head lolled to one side and then the other, a whimper hitched on her breath. She reached down to the ginger head between her legs, and ran a loving hand over it. Her eyes flickered open, her gaze locked with Harry's, and for one panicked moment he thought she might scream. She gasped, half-lurched, and Ron poked his head up.

"You never finished, did you? So soon?"

She shook her head. "Don't stop."

He dove back down, holding her open with two fingers from one hand, and plunged inside her with two fingers from the other. His mouth went back to work as well, and its wet slurping sounds. Hermione stretched back out, closed her eyes again, and inhaled deeply. Her breasts rose as her chest swelled with each breath. "More," she whispered, and a third finger slipped inside her. She hummed, opened her eyes. She watched Harry watching her. Sweat broke out on his upper lip.

One of her hands smoothed over her belly, and then up to cup the underside of her breast. Harry's mouth went dry. She pinched her own nipple, and Harry almost choked.

Then her eyes closed, and she turned her head away, and her body tensed. She gripped her breast tight, strained toward Ron. Like a rope snapping, she crested, and Harry remembered to breathe. And it was then that Ron, his own cock in hand, face wet, lifted over her and pressed himself between her legs. He dipped his head, thrust his tongue in her mouth, and then sank down inside her. They both groaned at the pleasure.

When Ron's hips began to pump, Harry forced himself away, and back down the stairs. He met Ginny coming up.

"Harry, I'm sorry about before," she began, "I didn't mean to suggest that you don't care about Hermione-"

He needed her; his whole body ached, screamed for her. Grabbing her shoulders, he crushed his mouth against hers, and then pushed her back against the wall. She gasped, and he knew she felt his excitement pressing into her hip. Her hands grabbed his face. She began to kiss him back. Their tongues dueled for dominance, and when she won, Harry forced her hips high enough on the wall for him to wedge himself between her legs. Her thighs wrapped around him, her arms wound around his neck. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, and Harry growled. He rocked against her. His hands slipped down to her ass, and he kneaded as he held her. She rocked back.

He pressed her harder into the wall, and reached down between them. Of course she was wearing pajama bottoms, when a gown would've been so much easier. He wasn't going to be able to get to her knickers without putting her down.

"Harry, wait," she gasped, but he kissed her even harder. He reached up and cupped her breast. She turned her head. "Stop."

"I want you."

"We can't, Harry. Oh, Merlin, stop."

The anguish in her voice broke his heart. He lowered her back to the ground, and pressed his forehead to the wall behind her. They stood there for a moment, still touching, but not touching. Breathing.

"What have we done?" she whispered. A lump formed in his throat. "I've got a boyfriend."

"Shut up about your bloody boyfriend!" Harry barked, and whirled away from her. The air was cold on the stair. "Fuck!"

"I'm a cheater," she cried. "You've made me a cheater!"

"It isn't cheating. You're supposed to be with me, not him."

"But I'm not with you!"

"I…l-love you," he said. His voice cracked. Three words, and he felt them hanging in the air between them.

She shook her head. "What? You say that now? Now? When I can't say them back?"

"You can," he said quietly. "You've said them before."

"I'm with Ernie now," she said, throwing up her hands. "I've cheated on Ernie! He doesn't deserve this! He's the best boyfriend I've ever had!"

"Dump him," Harry told her.

"I will not!"

But he couldn't listen anymore. His body vibrated, his mind hummed with such raw need that he practically threw himself at her. And she was there when he landed. She kissed him back, teeth and tongues. They were angry kisses, rough hands, clawing and pulling him closer. He pushed her t-shirt up, squeezed her bare breast. Her hips bucked against him, and she made a sound that was half-angry, half-desperate.

He forced her back against the wall, and his thumbs hooked inside the elastic waist of her pajamas and knickers together, and he shoved them down over her hips. Gravity did the rest.

"Harry-"

"Hex me," he said in her ear. "Hex me and I'll stop."

He shoved his own pajamas down and then grabbed her ass again and pushed her far enough up the wall that he felt the hot wet of her slide over the head of his cock. His hips bucked. This was it.

"Harry, please."

"Hex me," he repeated. "We both know you can best me if you want to."

She was gasping, kissing his jaw as she said, "I don't have my wand."

He silently called his, and then he pressed his wand into her hand, and pushed her hand against the wall above her head. "Hex me now, Ginny," he whispered against her lips. "I don't think I can stop unless you stop me."

She whimpered against his mouth, and then suckled his bottom lip. His hips responded on their own, and he thrust up just as her hips curled. Stars exploded behind his eyes, his lungs locked up. Slowly he lowered her down and she sank on to his cock. And just when he thought he was in, he sank in even deeper. Her legs tightened around him, one over his hip, one around the back of his thigh. She gasped, he grunted. She was so fucking tight.

"Wait," she breathed, grabbed his shoulder as he began to thrust. "Harry, please. It hurts."

"Hurts? Why does it…am I doing it wrong? Is this wrong?" It felt bloody right to him.

"It's just been a while…just…give me a…"

"A while since last week?" Harry asked, fighting the urge to thrust. He wasn't entirely successful.

She sucked in another breath, and he felt her trying to adjust around him. His thighs were burning, shaking from her weight and his fatigue, and the need to pound into her. His arms shook, too, and he wasn't sure how long he could hold her up. But his cock throbbed from the pleasure of her every breath, and Harry thought he'd rather die than pull out. The pain in his legs and arms was nothing.

"Last week…what was last week?" Her voice was tense, distracted. "Ow!"

"Why does this hurt you so bloody much?" Harry asked through clenched teeth. Hermione certainly hadn't been in pain. "Didn't Ernie-"

"I didn't do this with Ernie," she said quickly. "Stop saying his name. Oh, Merlin, I'm a slag."

"No," Harry breathed.

"Yes," she insisted. "Why am I doing this? What will I say to Ernie?"

"Nothing! Fuck, Ginny, I've got to…" He thrust, and she gave a little cry. His heart twisted for her.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he whispered to her. "If you want me to stop now-"

"I hate you," she said against his ear. "I love you."

He thrust again, and she began to slide down a little. He inched in deeper. "Dump Ernie."

"Shut up and fuck me," she said.

"I love you," he told her again as he began to pump.

"It's about bloody time."

His legs finally began to wobble, and she began to slip, and Harry went down hard on his knees to keep them joined. She adjusted in his lap, and then he pressed her against the wall again with the new leverage. Her breasts bounced with his every thrust, but he had to keep his hands on her hips to steady her. He tried to kiss her. She pressed her forehead into his neck. He felt hot tears on his chest.

He sat back on his heels, and hugged her tight. "I'll stop," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Gin."

"Finish," she said.

"I don't think I can." Not with her in tears.

She pushed up to stand, but it was awkward and he had to help her. His cock glistened painfully in the cold air. Ginny hurriedly pulled on her pajamas and snatched up her knickers as she ran down the stairs.

"Ginny, wait!" Harry pulled up his own pajamas and hurried after her. She didn't stop, though, and once she got to the girls' dorm steps she scrambled up without looking back. Harry stared after her, his pajamas tented, his body shaking, wondering what the hell he'd just done.


	12. Chapter 11 First Times Revealed

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 11 – First Times Revealed

Hermione greeted Harry at breakfast the next morning as if nothing had happened, and Ginny managed to avoid him the whole day, both of which Harry found extremely upsetting. By supper Harry found himself sitting at the Gryffindor table unable to meet Ron's eyes or swallow the Cornish pastie on his plate.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked, his cheek full of cooked carrots. "You look a bit peaked."

Harry glanced briefly at Hermione, who was watching him with the same concern Ron showed. Harry's eyes dropped back down to his plate. "Fine," he said.

"Harry," Hermione began. "Um…Harry…if this is about-"

"I'm fine," he snapped, terrified she was going to reference what he'd witnessed the previous night. She hadn't told Ron, Harry was fairly sure. Ron was still talking to him, after all, and he hadn't yet hexed him into tomorrow. Or, had she told him? Was Ron all right with it? Harry's stomach clenched, and any possibility of eating supper was lost.

Harry wrapped his pastie in a napkin and shoved it into his pocket as he left the Great Hall.

* * *

Harry heard the yelling even before he opened the Defense door. Later he would wonder why he didn't just turn and walk away. After all, it didn't sound as if Esmerelda remembered they had a lesson. Maybe it was the double explosions, one coming fast on the heels of the next that compelled Harry's over-developed hero complex to throw open the door and race to the rescue once again, only to find there was no one to be saved. Or, maybe it was the soul-deep weariness that left his usually uncanny intuition dulled to the point of stupidity.

Charlie and Esmerelda were dueling. They leapt on desks and the mezzanine stairs, dove for cover behind shelves and columns, cast Shield Spells without a noticeable flick of the wand, all the while they shouted at each other what could only be slurs and curses in Romanian. Harry would've thought it a well-choreographed dance except for the shocking fact that both of them were bleeding from multiple wounds, not the least of which was an ugly slash across Esmerelda's neck and shoulder. The classroom looked as if it had been through an earthquake; chairs and bookcases over-turned and one of the skeletons was even shattered. The two of them were sweating and winded as if they'd been at it for hours.

"_Eşti frumoasă_," Charlie practically growled. Harry was surprised to see, even fighting and bleeding from his chin, Charlie had a shadow of a smile on his face. Was he enjoying himself?

"Harry?" Esmerelda came up short and turned to him. Charlie took that opportunity to slam Esmerelda in the side of the head with a Stun Charm. She toppled over on her left and hit the floor like a wood plank.

"Oh, shit!" Charlie jumped over a downed chair and ran to her side. "Shit, shit, shit!" He knelt beside her. His eyes were wide and frantic as he cried, "She's going to kill me!"

"Because you hit her? Weren't you trying to hit her?"

Charlie glared at him. "Do you want something?"

"Oh…well…no, I suppose-"

"Then get the blood hell out of here!" Charlie turned back to Esmerelda, frozen on her side. He sighed deeply. "Shit."

"How can she be angry that you Stunned her?" asked Harry. "Surely she wouldn't want you to go easy on her."

"Easy on her? Are you mad? She's been going easy on me! Now she's going to – bloody hell. Mere, I'm sorry." But instead of releasing her from the hex, Charlie played with his wand for a long moment.

"Aren't you going to right her?"

"It's just…she's so pleasant like this, isn't she?" And then he cooed at her in Romanian, with his deep voice gentle. Blood colored his teeth pink. It was amazing to see the complex emotions that played over Charlie's sweaty, battered face. Hermione was right. It was painfully obvious.

"Ah, well. I reckon there's no getting around it." Charlie stood and aimed his wand at Ez's chest. "Harry, you might want to stand over there."

Harry hurried to the other side of the room just at Charlie cast _Invenerate_. Esmerelda was on her feet a moment later, wand drawn, but not at Charlie.

"What have you done?" she demanded of Harry. She took several deliberate steps toward him, her wand aimed at his head. "You selfish prick! What did you do?"

"What?" Harry asked. But he knew that she knew. The anger in her dark eyes couldn't be about anything else. "You're Reading me? I can't feel-"

"You're Broadcasting!" she snapped. "And yes, you should be afraid! What did you…oh, fuck me!"

Harry began to panic. He tried to think of anything except Ginny and Hermione, which of course, brought those thoughts right to the forefront. His emotions were so raw, and he was so tired, she could read him like a book. He backed toward the door, but she shut it with a flick of her wrist, and cast _Impervious _to keep him in.

"Mere? What's going on? What did he do? Mere, he's a student. You can't cast against him. I'm serious. Mere, lower your wand. Mere!" She didn't budge, and Charlie's face went red with tension. "Harry? What the bloody hell?"

But Harry couldn't bother to answer. It took every ounce of strength and concentration to hide the worst of it from her, and she was staring him down, soaking up every last thought spiraling out of control in his mind. He tried to focus on nothing at all, and then Hermione was there – her breasts, her belly, her stunning eyes staring at him while she touched herself and Ron kissed her core and made her come. And then he remembered running away as Ron pushed into her, and finding Ginny on the stairs. He saw her beautiful face twisted in pleasure as he pushed her pajamas down, and then his. Fuck, she was hot and wet and crying on his shoulder. He hurt her. Her face twisted in pain. And then she was running away, and he was running after her, and he watched her disappear up the stairs…

"Harry," Esmerelda said. "That's not how to clear your head. I've taught you better than that. You're pathetically easy to Read." And he could feel her now, pushing through the memories, stringing thoughts together, pulling out the hidden desires. This wasn't just him Broadcasting – she was in his mind.

"Get out of my head," he said through gritted teeth. "That's not for you!" Hermione's breasts, her hips, her thighs spread wide as Ron held her open and kissed between her legs. Tears of shame prickled his eyes, and Harry felt himself go hot with humiliation and remorse. He shouldn't have seen that, he shouldn't have watched.

"Push me out, Potter."

Hermione's hand on her own breast, teasing her own pale brown nipple, watching him watching her as she did it, as she wove her other hand through ginger hair.

"_Mere_," Charlie said sharply.

"Bloody bitch!" Harry yelled. "Stop! Get out!"

"But you didn't stop when she said stop, did you, Potter?" Esmerelda said. "How many times did she say stop?"

He remembered Ginny push at his hips. He had hurt her, but why had it hurt? It was only supposed to hurt the first time. Even Ron had said that. He didn't want to hurt her, and she felt so bloody good…

Harry shook his head. He couldn't stop the memories from coming any more than he could stop the tears from falling. "No," he croaked out around a sob. Spittle flew from his mouth. He couldn't reign in the anguish, couldn't hide it, but he tried until it finally overwhelmed him and erupted. "No, no, no, no…I hurt her like he did!"

"Like who did?" Charlie asked. "Hurt who? What's he on about?"

"Tom Riddle," Harry choked out. "Voldemort."

Charlie's face went angular and fierce. "You hurt Ginny," he said with a deadly tone. "Harry, you didn't."

Harry couldn't help but nod. Let Charlie kill him. It wasn't anything more than he deserved.

Esmerelda shoved the heels of her hands against her temples and sucked in a breath. "I need to talk to Harry alone. Charlie. Leave now! I can't take you and him at the same time when he's like this." She looked in genuine pain. "Fuck, Harry! Calm down! I can't take this." She practically threw her wand at the door, and there was a flash of magic as the _Impervious_ was countered.

"You won't have to take it," Charlie said as he put his wand away, and rolled his sweat-stained, bloody sleeves up above his muscled forearms. "I'm going to kill him!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Esmerelda snapped. "Enough of the male bravado. He hasn't done anything to her that you haven't done to me, you selfish son of a bitch."

"_What?_" Charlie cried. He looked at Harry with renewed anger. "_What did you do?_"

Esmerelda gave a whimper, and she swayed a little on her feet. "Charlie, go check on Ginny. Make sure her back's OK."

"Her back?" Charlie asked. "Did you hit her?

"I didn't do anything to her back!"

"No, but the stone wall you had her against most certainly did."

"_WHAT?_" Charlie roared.

"Oh, shut up. You had me against a tree. I had bruises for a week."

Charlie whirled on her, and she flinched back as if she'd been hit. She doubled over, hand cradling her head. "Charlie, damn it, get the fuck out of here! You're killing me!"

Charlie turned to Harry, and Harry braced for a punch to the face. Instead he stared down Charlie's blunt finger. "Don't think you're safe, Harry. I'll find you later." There was no reason to doubt him.

Esmerelda visibly sagged when the door slammed shut behind Charlie. "Fuck, that hurts," she muttered. Then she looked up at Harry, and took a deep breath. "Are you even trying to control your thoughts?"

"You were the one picking through my head," Harry accused. "You had no right to do that!"

"You want to talk about taking liberties? How about Ginny telling you to stop, and you telling her to make you. You had her pressed against a fucking wall, Harry! _And_ she was wandless!"

"That's none of your business!"

"Some might call that rape."

It was an ugly word, and it hit him like a boulder. Harry backed away from her, turned, and still he couldn't seem to catch his breath. "No," he moaned. "No. She was kissing me. She was caught up in the moment, too. I could never-"

"Keep fucking her after she told you you were hurting her? Yes, it seems you could."

"I didn't…" he muttered, like a dying mantra. But he had. He'd hurt her the same way Riddle had. He was Voldemort. It was more than just the scar that connected them. He was dangerous. He was…no. He wasn't evil. Was he?

"I didn't mean to hurt her…I didn't mean to…"

With one hand still pressed to her head, Esmerelda said, "All right, now, Harry. Calm down. You're not evil. And you're not Voldemort, so let's not get carried away."

He shook his head. "I've got to get out of here! I've got to get as far away from her-" He fell over backwards, and only then did he register the words _Petrificus Totalus_. The bloody bitch froze him.

"Yes, well, I may be a bitch, but this conversation's going to be a lot easier without you interrupting with bouts of hysteria." Esmerelda pulled one of the desk chairs over and sat down heavily next to Harry. She wiped at the wound on her neck as if it was a nuisance that it was still bleeding. Maybe she'd pass out from lack of blood. Maybe she'd take him with her.

"No such luck, Potter. And I'd just like to point out that your every thought so far has been about you and what you're going to do and how this makes you feel. In the last five minutes you haven't worried once about how Ginny is right now, or how she's going to deal with what happened last night."

It was as if she'd sent a bolt of electricity through him, the truth of what she said shocked him through to his very core. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think past _no, it can't be…_

"Oh, Harry." She sighed. "Try not to think for a moment. Just listen." But then she didn't say anything. She just sat there looking miserable, tired and beaten. Her eye make-up was smeared from sweat. The cut on her neck looked painful.

"It's fine," she told him.

_Unfreeze me_, he thought.

_Not yet_. _Give me a chance to explain_. And then she went quiet again.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's not like there's a Hallmark card for this situation, Harry. It's difficult."

_So, unfreeze me. I want to sit up. What is that buzzing?_

_You hear that?_ She snorted. _I guess you would. He's ranting. At least at this distance the pain isn't quite so sharp. You don't feel the pain, do you? _

_That's Charlie? You can Read him even when he's not in the room? I didn't know Legilimens could do that._

_We can't. It's not Legilimency. _

_Does Charlie know you can hear his thoughts?_

_I should hope so. He's yelling at me. It doesn't sound like buzzing in my head. Buzzing would be nice…_

_So, what is it if it's not Legilimency?_

_It's a mistake I made a long time ago. I think I'll pay for it forever._

_What does that mean?_

_There are side-effects that linger even after the Bond is broken. Years after, apparently. And Charlie Broadcasts._

_Bond?_

"Enough." She rubbed her temple and sighed again. "You know, this might be easier just to show you. You're of age, and even if you weren't, after what you were up to last night…fuck, I don't want to think about this." She took a deep breath, and then sat forward. "All right, Potter. Catch."

He closed his eyes and braced himself for the memory that flew at him.

He saw Charlie in Muggle clothes; a shirt and jeans with a rucksack over his shoulder. No burns on his face or neck. He was younger, thinner, less muscular. It was dark, and there was a smell of sulfur in the air. It was cold, and Harry shivered.

The portkey left them a few kilometers from the town, so they walked along the road. Harry was scared, but he didn't know why. He knew he'd never been there before, but he remembered the place well. There was a large yellow sign up ahead, and beyond it was a cottage he'd hidden behind at as a child. But that didn't make any sense.

_It's my memory_, Esmerelda said. _Not yours. __Don't think, let me do it for you._

Charlie took his hand – _my hand, Potter_ – and leaned a little closer. "You're cold, are you?"

"No," Esmerelda lied. She didn't want him to think she was weak. And it wasn't that cold, it was summer after all. Was he flirting with her? Why was he holding her hand? She didn't normally touch strangers. Or anyone, really, and his hand felt large and solid clutching hers. It felt nice, but foreign. And why was this stranger holding her hand?

"So…how do you know Dumbledore?" Charlie asked after a moment. He was clearly grasping for a conversation. She hoped he wouldn't be one of those nervous people who was scared of silence. It was irritating to be paired up with a wizard who Broadcasted, but at least he wasn't a screamer. No, he didn't even Broadcast all the time, and even when he did, it wasn't always…unpleasant. And there were moments, like now, when she couldn't hear him at all.

"Dumbledore? It's a long story," she said.

"We've got some time, I reckon."

"I was just trying to say it's none of your business in a nice way."

"Oh." She had hoped that would be enough to deter him. She wasn't so lucky. "You Americans can be blunt-"

"I'm not an American, you idiot! I'm a British citizen!"

"You sound American."

"I sound Canadian! I lived in Canada. There's huge difference."

"If you say so." Charlie didn't seem in the least bothered by her outburst. In fact, he seemed amused. "Esmerelda." He said her name as if he was trying it out. "Esmereeeelda. You know, it's not a very British name."

"Shut up."

"I didn't catch the last name."

"No, you didn't."

"Funny, really, because I do distinctly remember Dumbledore introducing me as Charlie Weasley." And then she caught a whiff of his thoughts, like smoke on the breeze. _She's hiding something…_

She didn't respond, and they walked along for a couple of moments in blissful silence.

"So, it's just the one name, then? Esmerelda? Like Merlin?"

"Yes, like Merlin," she snapped. "It's exactly like Merlin."

"Shall I call you Esmerelda, then? Or Ezzy?"

"Not if you want to live."

Charlie laughed, and a shot of frustrated irritation coursed through her. Who was this wizard Dumbledore had inflicted on her? She's tried to tell the old wizard that she preferred to work alone, but he'd said Charlie would be a good ally in a fight. Ez had her doubts. Charlie was too good-natured, too soft. Too annoying. She doubted he'd even seen a real fight.

The loud pops of wizards Apparating startled her, and she immediately had her wand drawn. Charlie didn't. Some ally.

"Esmerelda," said one of the cloaked figures. Standau, no doubt. "We hear you've moved sides. You break your mother's heart with every breath you take." He spoke Romanian with the mountain accent she remembered so well. He was her cousin, a decade older than her, and none the wiser.

"I've no qualm with you," she told him in Romania. "Go home to your family."

"You are my family."

"I have no family."

"You're weak, Esmerelda. You've always been weak. Your blood is weak."

"_I'm weak_?" Now she shouted in English. "Attack, then, you pathetic goat and I'll show you how weak I am! I've grown since you've seen me last, Standau. I'm not the little girl you remember, and my blood's just as pure as yours!"

"Muggle-lover," he spat at her.

"Uh…what's going on?" Charlie asked. "Esmerelda?"

"You're pathetic!" she shouted at her cousin. And all the anger and resentment she held for her parents was channeled now at Standau. He represented the worst of her family. In him she saw the disgust on her father's face, in his words she felt the sting of her mother's beatings. He was the future she ran from, but she was done running.

"They couldn't break me, and neither will you! But you can try, Standau. You came for a fight, didn't you? So, show me what you've got! I'm not afraid of you any more!"

They started casting, and Esmerelda managed to step in front of Charlie and conjure a decent Shield Spell while he fumbled to get his wand out. And then they fought. Three to two. It was late, and they'd had a long day, but Ez felt the surge of adrenaline renew her strength and sharpen her senses. Blood pumped, muscles worked, magic flew. She hit one of her cousin's friends with Sever Spell and he Disapparated away. Charlie was hit, but he bounded back up again without missing a beat. She started to rethink her earlier assessment.

"You pretend," Standau shouted as he threw hex after hex at her, "but you are Wizmere! You will always be Wizmere! Weak blood or not, you will come home! I will carry you on my back if I must!"

"Wizmere?" Charlie gasped. "Did he say Wizmere?" He looked at her instead of their combatants, and took a direct blow to the side of his head. His eyes rolled back, and he fell.

Ez didn't understand the rage that bloomed in her, or the pang of panic at seeing Charlie go down, but she pushed it into her magic and threw her cousin and his friend back so hard it shocked even her.

"Come and fight like wizards you pathetic little girls! Cowards! Weak bloods, that what you are! Inbred curs! Get off your asses and put up a fight!" The adrenaline pumping through her left her excited and energized. She could've taken them all single-handed. She could've taken on the whole world at that moment.

"Ezmere – what are you doing?" Charlie was still winded, and he winced as he pushed himself up on to hands and knees. "Shut the bloody hell up, for Merlin's sake! Don't taunt them!"

"You're a disgrace!" she called to her cousin. "Your blood's inferior!" She yelled all the things her father had said to her, all the things her mother whispered under her breath at the dinner table. "You're insignificant; a living ghost! You're less than my shadow! Less than my breath! You disgust –" And then her voice cracked and nothing more came out. Too late she realized Charlie had cast the spell at her and not her cousin. He'd Muffled her.

Of all the moronic things he could've done! How was she supposed to cast a spell now? Her cousin slowly got to his feet and leveled his wand at her, and she couldn't even cast a damn Shield Spell.

"You are bitch!" Standau shouted in English, glaring at her down the length of his wand. "Your mother should drowned you as baby!" He said that because her father had tried. Her ouma had warned him that she had weak blood - meaning that she would be a disgrace to the family name. It was in her cards, in her palm; the stars had aligned at the moment of her birth to warn them all of her weak, traitorous blood. And Ez lived up to her ouma's predictions. She'd disgraced the whole damn lot of them.

"Your father will laugh when I tell him I kill you!" Standau yelled. "Your mother will kiss my face!"

"Eat bogies!" Charlie shouted from his knees. The spell took them all by surprise, and had them down to their knees, cowering and covering their faces from the attacking globs of mucus before Ez even understood what was happening. Their attackers Disapperated almost immediately.

"I must know how to do that!" she would have cried, had she any voice. Now she whirled on Charlie. Rage bubbled inside her. How dare he? How fucking dare he? She'd never said the F word before, but she'd thought it a million times. Fuck, fuck, "Fuck!"

Suddenly her voice was back, and she aimed her wand at Charlie's chest. "Want to Muffle me, do you? _Gentisil__!_" Red magic flew from her wand and Charlie was pelted with tiny burning pebbles.

"What are you doing? Are you mad?"

"Mad? I'm furious! How dare you attack me?"

"You were going to get us killed!" He frantically patted down the parts of his shirt that were smoldering. "What the bloody hell's wrong with you?"

"You're not allergic to bees, are you?"

"Bees?" Charlie asked, startled enough by her question to look back up at her. "No. Why?"

"_Corrosip_!" she called and two dozen bees flew out the end of her wand.

Charlie cried out more in shock than terror. "Augamenti!" Charlie yelled, and water poured out of his wand, dousing most but not all of the bees. Several managed to get him in the face and hand. "You're a bloody maniac!"

"And you're a –" There was a CRACK, and Ez whirled around to see Standau again, already taking aim. Luckily Charlie was faster, but he only managed to wing her cousin with _Diffindo_, and Standau's shirt and cloak were ripped from neck to hem - Standau remained unharmed. In that time Ez cast a strong _Expelliarmus_ that sent her cousin back a good twenty feet, and his wand in the other direction. He landed hard, and when he was able to pull together enough air, he Disapparated again.

"He'll be back," Ez said grimly. Standau wasn't terribly bright, but he was obsessive. "Can you walk?"

"Now that I've been burned and stung? No problem." She went to help Charlie to his feet but he pushed her away. Fine, then. If he was going to be a baby, let him hobble.

"This way," she said, without bothering to slow up for him. She led him into the woods, and headed in the general direction of the path she'd known years before. Standau knew the path, too, but he didn't know about the Illusion Charm at the end of it. In no time at all they were looking over a steep cliff that fell away down to a wide gorge. Once Charlie caught up to her, she waved her wand and said the enchantment her Ouma had taught her. "_Creshnika_."

"What are you doing?" Charlie asked, rubbing a small black burn on the back of his hand.

She took that hand, gripped it firmly, and began to step off the side of the cliff. Charlie immediately grabbed her with his free arm and pulled her tight against himself. He was about her height, maybe an inch or two taller, and his face was suddenly very close to hers. He had coffee on his breath, and his skin was hot through his t-shirt. The adrenaline that still pumped through her veins had her heart hammering in her throat, but that didn't explain why her mouth went suddenly dry, or why his blue eyes were so very blue all of a sudden. Or, had they always been that blue? No one had ever held her so close. She never would've guessed it would feel so good, or so terrifying – but terrifying in a completely different way than Standau. This kind of terrifying stole her breath away.

"What are you doing? It's a long way down," Charlie said, concern concealed by the attempt at humor. Was he always like this? So nice and easy-going? Why weren't his nerves frayed? He'd just been attacked too, and Charlie had come out a lot worse than Ez had.

"It's a charm," she said, brushing at a singed hole at his shoulder. The ash fluttered away, and he winced. The hot pebble had burned his skin, but she pushed away the guilt and looked up into his curious face. "Trust me."

"Trust you?" he asked, incredulous. "You just attacked me." And still, he had his arms tight around her. _Beautiful_, his mind said, as clear as if he'd spoken the word out loud. _Who is this girl?_

She would not let his thoughts derail her. Or his arms, thick and tight around her. "No, no, if memory serves, you attacked me first!"

"Not with rocks and bees!"

"They were little bees! Don't be such a baby!"

"Who is that Standau bloke, anyway? And why's he after us?"

"He's after me, not you."

"Don't tell me, you cast your Bee Spell at him?"

"I wish. Listen, it's great standing here hugging and all, but Standau's going to regroup, and we're –"

"Right, then. What do we do?"

"Just hold my hand and jump."

Charlie gave her a hard look. "I don't know why I trust you. My gut tells me you're bad news."

He smiled down at her with such warmth in his eyes that Ez lost all ability to think. His lips were so close she couldn't see them anymore, but she could feel them as they gently brushed over hers. Hardly a kiss really, barely even there, but her stomach fluttered, and a tingle shot up between her legs. Oh, Merlin…

"Yeah, bad news," Charlie agreed with himself. And then his mouth crushed down on hers.

His lips were warm and smooth and soft and demanding, and she did her best to kiss him back. She'd never kissed a guy like this, and she wasn't sure that she liked it. His teeth caught her lip and he bit down. She gasped, and jerked away, but his mouth followed, hard and needy. Awareness prickled the back of her mind as she heard him think, _More…more…_

She pushed Charlie away. "We have to go."

He nodded with heavy eyelids and swollen lips. His gaze caught on her mouth. It took a moment for him to find his voice. "Bloody hell." _Dumbledore, what have you done to me? _

"Just take my hand and-"

"Trust you. Yeah." He looked reticently down at the river. "Bloody, bloody hell."

And then she stepped off the cliff, and he followed, and they broke through the enchantment.

The hot springs was just as she remembered it, yellow rocks growing up from the forest floor, and a pool of steaming water big enough for her whole family, and deep enough for her to stand up to her neck – though it had been past her head when she was here last. She turned back to the stone entrance and waved her wand. "_Creshnika sort._" A shimmer of gold magic assured her they were safe.

She didn't even have a chance to catch her breath before Charlie spun her around and kissed her again. His hands were on her hips, and his mouth was more demanding than before. She didn't know what to do, where to touch him, or even if she wanted to. She'd just met him, she really didn't know him at all, and…good Merlin…it felt good. His lips had found their way to just below her ear, and he sucked a moan out of her. Her nipples tightened, her belly flopped.

"You're so bleeding beautiful." No one had ever said that to her before. Not even her family. Especially not her family. _I want…_

"Shut up."

He pulled back to look at her, and it felt like his blue eyes poured into her. He made her nervous, her heart raced, but she couldn't look away. "Why do I feel like I've known you forever?"

"You don't know me at all," she said.

"And still…" He studied her face, her brows. He ran a hand through her hair. "Esmerelda. I keep thinking that we've met and I've just forgotten. I keep trying to remember you."

No, it was impossible that their paths might have crossed. Her family never would've allowed it. And she would've remembered his eyes, his smile, the warm gentleness of his thoughts. She pushed into his head easier than she ever had before, like a breeze through silk. She picked through the top layers, and found her own eyes there, in his mind. She hardly recognized them. Her eyes weren't that bright, her cheeks were never that rosy, her lips could never be so…inviting.

_That's not what I look like_.

_Is that you inside my head?_ _Esmerelda?_

_This is how you see me, isn't it? But it's not what I look like._

_You're beautiful._

_I'm not._

_Get out of my head, Esmerelda. _

_What are you hiding?_

"You can't just push into someone's head," he told her. "It's not right."

None of this felt right, not that she cared at the moment. Her heart was still racing, and her head was spinning. He'd fought with her, fought for her. Her whole body trembled with awareness of him. She had never felt like this after a battle before, and she was starting to like it. And so did he – she could feel it in him.

_What are you looking for?_ he thought._ Just ask me and I'll tell you._

"Why are you kissing me?" The question sent a flare of heat up her cheeks.

He smirked. "Why are you kissing me?"

"I…" She didn't know how to answer that. Why had she kissed him? And his hands were now on her ass - why had she let that happen? Did she like it? Did she want him to stop? No, not really…

"Kiss me again," Charlie whispered against her mouth. His lips caressed hers so sweetly she couldn't deny him.

She wanted more. Ez leaned against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard. He groaned, and it sent a thrill right through her. She wanted to hear him make that noise again.

_Esmerelda…I think I could…_

His hands slipped up her back, and around to her waist. He squeezed her tight.

_Esmerelda…I think I do…_

He bit her bottom lip, and when she gasped he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She gagged, pushed away from him.

"Are you…Esmerelda, are you all right?"

"People call me Ez." And she most certainly wasn't all right. Why had he done that?

"You've not snogged many blokes before, have you?" Charlie asked. It was a blunt question, but there was kindness in his voice. And amusement. And…interest.

"Is that what this is? Snogging?"

"You don't snog in Canada?"

"We make out. And yes, I've made out with plenty of guys," she lied. "Thank you very much."

He held her chin with a finger and a thumb, and he slowly, gently lifted her head up towards his. "Plenty of guys?" He used her flat accent. It sounded good coming out of his mouth. "Good then. I hope I measure up."

His mouth descended again, and he flickered his tongue lightly across her bottom lip. Did she want his tongue in her mouth? She thought that she did. Her belly fluttered again, her head went foggy around the edges.

Breathe, she told herself. Then his tongue slipped between her lips, between her teeth, and caressed hers. It was a gentle motion, like a flicker. Playful. It tickled, and she slipped the tip of her tongue under his. He moaned in pleasure, and she felt it through his belly pressed against hers. Every hair on her body stood on end, and every inch of her breasts that were pressed up against his chest tightened.

She smoothed her hands up his solid chest and shoulders, to the hot skin on his neck, and around the back of his head. She pulled him closer, searched for a better taste of him while she reveled in the way her body trembled and tingled. Feeling bold, she thrust into his mouth, not playfully, but with intention, and was rewarded with another gravely groan. Tight thrills whirled in the bottom of her belly. How could she make him groan again?

_So beautiful…_

_I'm not._

"Get out of my head," he whispered against her lips. His mouth was hot and wet, and his tongue played over hers as his fingers found her breast. She gasped and felt him smile against her mouth. A shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the cold.

She pressed into his head again. He was thinking about how she shot at her cousin, and how she ducked down and then rolled away to narrowly miss a returned spell. He was thinking about the way she looked at him when she cast _Gentisil_; angry and fierce. She felt the surge admiration course through him, and something else, something like want. Like desire. His hands flew back down to her ass. He grabbed her roughly and ground his hips against hers. There was a hardness between them there, and she knew what it was. It shocked her out of her own arousal.

_Get out of my head_, he thought again. She pulled out, and tried to pull away, but he didn't let go.

"Stop thinking," he said, and moved his mouth to her neck. "Feel this." He suckled over the pulse point on her neck, and a wet warmth pooled between her legs. Her head fogged once more, and she found herself kissing him back; his ear, his cheek, his jaw, his hair – anything she could reach. When she groaned in pleasure, he physically picked her up, and awkwardly carried her the last few feet to an alder tree. He pushed her against it and used his hips to pin her there. Rough bark pressed into her shoulders and ass. Pain mixed with pleasure.

"What are you doing?" she asked, though her voice was little more than a whimper. His hard belly and thick thighs felt so good pressed against her. His hands rubbed and squeezed.

_I want,_ he broadcast. _I need._

"Kiss me again," she said, and he smiled as he obliged.

Before she could register what had happened, Charlie whipped her shirt up and over her head; it got tangled in her elbows.

"What are you doing?" she asked again, this time the hoarseness in his voice was from shock. Surprise turned to panic, and everything snapped back with crystal clarity.

His eyes were full of her chest, and she crossed her arms protectively over herself. _Flowers._ He ran a finger along the top of her bra. "Perfect."

And suddenly it wasn't fun anymore. This really scared her. Who was this person kissing her breast, pushing the cup down, running a finger over her bare nipple? It was so tight that its ache answered at the point between her legs where the hardest part of his body pressed against her. They were going too far. She knew what was supposed to come next. She had to stop him.

"Don't do that," she said, thought there was no voice behind the words. "Oh, Merlin…I don't like that." She liked it too much. She didn't know it could feel this way. When Standau had groped her it had made her retch.

He looked up into her eyes, alarmed. "Really? I wasn't doing it right?" He looked back down at her chest, and suddenly she wanted his mouth on her again. Ez didn't know why, but it was incredibly sexy to have Charlie's eyes on her like that, to see the earnest confusion as he tried to work out just what he'd done wrong. Why was that endearing when it was so maddeningly frustrating? So completely terrifying? But her fear melted away, and modesty battled with this new giddy want and old adrenaline still fizzing through her veins. Suddenly it didn't bother her to stand there with her breast hanging out. She wondered what he'd do next.

He met her eyes. She hadn't expected that. Then, he dragged the other cup down, too, and her breasts hung propped up on the under wire. Her nipples stared him in the eye.

"I could try again," Charlie said, as if he'd been presented with a challenge. "They're so lovely, it would be a shame to waste them." He cupped her gently, and watched her face as he ran both thumbs over her nipples. She tried to stand firm, but the sensation was so intense she had to close her eyes.

"I think you do like it." _I want to make her come. I want…_

She shook her head no.

He leaned back from the waist up, and threw his shirt up and over his head. He was beyond pale, covered in freckles. Was there no sun in England anymore? His chest was square and solid on his youthfully lean body. Heat flushed through her. He had soft chest hair.

"Well, I like it," he encouraged. He looked down at himself, at his reddish-copper, oval nipples. They were small and flat and enticing.

She was hesitant to touch him. He stood there and waited for her, smiling in his easy way, and she wondered what she was afraid of. Of Charlie? Of what she was feeling? Of coming back to Romania now that she'd been disowned by her parents, and no longer had their protection? Her family was merciless, and she knew that Standau would kill her if given the chance. Or worse.

But she wasn't afraid of Charlie. Not anymore. She refused to be afraid. She ran a hand from his shoulder down over his firm chest. His nipple hardened under his fingertip, and he sucked in a breath as she ran her thumb over it. She did it again. And then again.

_Esmerelda…I think I do…_

She ran her hand lower, wondering how far he'd let her go. Down past his ribs? Down over his stomach? Around his navel with a patch of hair that trailed straight down and darkened? She ran two fingers along the waist of his jeans. There was a small gap between his belly and the denim, and she dipped a finger in only to find more fur.

_Esmerelda…I think I love…_

Her hand whipped to her mouth. No, no, no!

He unbuttoned the waist of his jeans, and then he did hers. When he stepped away from her, and the pressure from his pelvis was gone, she felt the loss more profoundly than she ever could've imagined. Even though he was still at arm's length she suddenly felt alone again. The night was that much colder. It was easier to think. No, no, she didn't want to think, and she didn't want to be alone. What was wrong with her?

When Charlie unzipped his fly and shoved his jeans and underwear to the ground, her heart jumped. Fear bloomed anew. Her chest tightened, she couldn't breathe. The way he looked at her wasn't sexy anymore, it was vulgar. The humor in his face was replaced with a dark lust. He stood there unabashedly erect and bobbing. Panic swelled. She'd never seen a naked man before. She couldn't look away. When he stepped to her, she felt him press into her groin.

"You're shaking," he whispered, and placed light kisses over her cheeks and chin. "Are you afraid?"

"Of course not."

"Nothing scares you?" Again, a touch of humor in his whisper.

"You don't scare me."

"Mmm," he said, placing a series of kisses on her lips. "You scare the hell out of me, Esmerelda Wizmere." He sighed, pressed his forehead to hers. "Esmerelda. Esmerelda. Even your name feels familiar to me."

And just like that, the lewd, lustful wizard was gone and Charlie was back with a shyer smile than she'd ever seen him wear. He touched her arms, ran his hands up and down them. His hands were large and warm and captivating.

When he kissed her again, her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around his bare neck. He touched her breasts, and it felt good, he touched her stomach, and the muscles there spasmed. He slipped a single finger down her belly, and hooked it into the front of her panties.

"Oh, Merlin…"

His hand brushed, and she gasped, and her hips bucked forward wanting more. Suddenly, her legs seemed far too weak to hold her up. Her panties went down. Her body began to ache from the inside. She couldn't stop shaking.

"I don't want to do this," she whispered. She was ashamed of the fear. Her ouma was right, she had weak blood.

He lifted her face up, and she opened her eyes to his gaze. "You were amazing out there. I've never seen anyone so brave."

"Right. Is that why you Muffled me?" Confidence sparked within her again, and for the moment she glared at him she forgot she was terrified.

"Open your legs, Esmerelda. Let me in. I want you so badly."

He cupped her ass, squeezed, and she dropped her head on to his shoulder and groaned. Her body was betraying her. Her legs opened for him. Her lips kissed his neck, and then her tongue. "No, Charlie, don't."

"I don't…I haven't had a lot of girls. Just the one, really. I'll try to make it good for you."

He lifted her just high enough to work himself between her legs, and then he pressed her hard against the tree again. Her back burned as skin scraped over bark. She swallowed a cry, and felt him press hard against that pooling heat at her center. She couldn't get purchase, and she wrapped her legs around his thighs for balance.

"If it isn't good, I'll make it up to you," he said. "I promise."

She could feel the head of his erection already pressing into that ache inside her. It burned, too. She didn't want to do this. Not with him. She didn't know him. "It hurts."

He shook with the effort to hold her up, and his thighs were impossibly hard beneath her legs. Sweat broke out on his back and face. "You're clenching. Relax."

And then he let her sink down, and her back grated against the tree. She felt him push inside her, and still more burning pain ignited. Her thighs tightened to stop the progress, but he thrust in deeper and deeper until she was sure she couldn't take any more of him. Was he even in the right place down there? How could this be right? She couldn't breathe. He pushed her harder against the tree.

"Relax," he urged through gritted teeth. "Fuck, Ez, relax!"

"It hurts. Please, stop."

"I'm almost there," he assured.

He came inside her with his face pressed between her breasts, and then his thighs gave out. They crashed to the ground, and while he made sure she landed on top of him, they crashed down hard, and it hurt some more. Everything hurt. There was even an ache in her chest, a tightness she didn't understand. Her eyes prickled, her vision blurred. When had she last cried? Ez never cried.

"You all right?" Charlie asked. How could he ask that? She'd just spent the last two minutes telling him she was in pain. "That was brilliant."

Her own stunned heartbreak kept her silent. Her belly cramped. She curled away from him and wept.

And then, an invisible hand pushed Harry back, and he was in his own body again, sitting on the floor, legs splayed, staring at Esmerelda. She conjured a kerchief and handed it to him. He wiped at the hot tears on his cheeks. He'd felt her lust and pain, her fear, and anger at Charlie, and all he was left with now was a growing resentment towards her. He didn't want to know any of that.

"Why?" he gasped. "Why would you show me that?"

"So you'll understand better what 'stop' means. It's a little different from the other side, isn't it?"

Harry shook his head, stared at his feet. He thought maybe he might be sick. "I've just been fucked by Charlie Weasley."

Esmerelda laughed. "I remember the sentiment. But no, believe me, it was me and not you."

It was real enough. "Are you saying that what you felt, Ginny felt the same last night? That she was…scared? Of me?"

"Harry, when you finished, were you inside her head?"

"I…I didn't finish," he told her. "But, you must know that."

"You swore you wouldn't Read her," she adamantly reminded.

"And, I haven't! Merlin, I should've stopped when she asked me to. I never should've started it in the first place. Why did I even kiss her? She has a boyfriend."

"You were worked up. Watching can do that. And…we should talk about that, too, eh?"

Oh, no. Harry closed his eyes and dropped his face into his hands. "I don't want to see that memory!"

"Don't worry. It's not one I'm willing to share."

So, there was a memory? Yeah, he didn't want to know that, either.

"Harry, why did you watch Hermione while Ron was making love to her?"

He hid his face again. "I don't know," he moaned. "I'm a perv." Harry wanted to melt into the floor. It was horrible to have someone know these things about him.

"The thing is, Hermione will never love you the way she loves Ron."

"I don't fancy Hermione," Harry said flatly. None of this was any of her business.

"She's just now starting to explore her sexuality, and she hasn't yet had a chance to form her boundaries. Not that you have any boundaries, either, but Hermione…well, I have to say it's different for a girl."

"We're just friends."

"Hardly," Esmerelda said. "You two have grown up together, learned together, fought together, bled together. There's too much history there for 'just friends,' Harry. Especially for her."

"No way. She doesn't fancy me." Ez was out of her bleeding mind.

"No, she loves Ron, and with a maturity many witches never achieve. But she feels strongly for you as well, and little stunts like you watching will only confuse her as she's trying to work through the complex emotions she's got tangled up inside. I don't know if you're aware of this or not, but Hermione isn't exactly a simple witch. And now is not the time to throw another regent in her cauldron."

"I won't."

"I'm serious, Harry. Her friendship with you is a lot like Charlie's with Tonks."

"But…" Charlie had slept with Tonks.

"I know," Ez said, not even having to Read his mind. "So, you'll trust me when I say I've seen this before. Stay away from Hermione and Ron when they're together, Harry."

"Is that why you and Charlie broke it off?"

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, but being inside your memory of losing your virginity is? Are you even supposed to be telling me this stuff? I mean, that was Charlie's privacy invaded, too. Isn't there a code of silence or something in Legilimency?"

"No."

"So you're good with telling everybody's secrets?"

"Harry, you can't watch Hermione and Ron anymore."

"_I know!_" Heat bloomed in his face. "I've said I won't! I'm not a perv."

"Oh, come on. Don't turn prude on me. It's not perverted, Harry, but it is a bad idea. She loves Ron."

"And I love Ginny."

"Yes, well…what are you going to do about Ginny?"

"What are you on about? What is there to do?" He'd take back last night if it were possible. "What did Charlie do? You two were together for a while, weren't you? How did you get past that first time?"

"Well, it was a long night," Esmerelda said lightly, though Harry knew the memory must be anything but. After what he'd just witnessed he doubted anything had ever been light between them.

"We did a lot of talking, a lot of fighting. There was more sex that was less painful. But I think…I think it was that he was able to make me laugh. Our relationship was always volatile, but there was a lot of laughter, too. At that point I hadn't known a lot of laughter in my life, and Charlie – he had an interesting way of looking at the world." Her sad smile was almost wistful, and Harry wondered what it had taken to finally break them up.

"Yeah, it was a difficult ending. I hope I never have to share that with you," she said earnestly.

"Am I still Broadcasting?" Harry asked.

"You have an expressive face."

The door to the classroom slammed open and Hermione stood framed inside it. Her wand was clutched in her hand, and fury was etched across her face. Harry had seen her like this before, but he'd never been on the receiving end. He didn't know what to do, but he was afraid to move. She looked like a cat ready to pounce.

"Apologize," she said, her voice low and pointed like a lance prepared to strike.

"I'm sorry," he immediately said.

"Not to me! To Ginny!"

"You've seen her? How is she?" He jumped up from the floor. "Where is she? Doe she hate me? Did she tell you what happened? Is she all right?"

"Harry, how could you?" Hermione stepped into the room, and her fury shifted to incredulity. "I never would've thought it possible of you. Harry, you _love_ her!"

Oh, no, it was that bad. "Where is she?"

"Showering. I was able to Heal the cuts on her back, but the bruises-"

"Bruises?" He'd bruised her. "Shit." He turned from Hermione to catch his breath.

"Harry," Hermione said, quieter now. She stepped toward him, concern on her face. "Why didn't you stop when she asked? I feel like it's all my fault."

"Your fault?" Harry asked. When Hermione threw a nervous glance at Esmerelda, he guessed what she was referring to. Panic shot through him. She wasn't going to talk about that, was she? Esmerelda pressed the heel of her hand to her temple.

"It's just, well," Hermione began, looking at her feet, her cheeks flushing pink. "Ron attacked Ginny in the DA because of me – he's something of a maniac, that one. And then…er…you-"

"It's not your fault," Harry said to stifle anything else she was about to say. "It's all my fault-"

Esmerelda moaned.

"Damn right, it is!" Charlie barked as he swept into the room, still furious and puffed up like a peacock. He looked terrible, all angry and wounded. At least he wasn't actively bleeding anymore. "I'll deal with you in a minute," he said to Harry with a finality that made him dread what was to come. "Hermione, did you find her?"

"She's all right," Hermione told him.

"Thank Merlin."

Esmerelda fell out of her chair. Harry reached to help her up, but Charlie shoved him out of the way.

"_Nu ma atinge_," she cried, and held up a hand to stop Charlie from touching her. "You go, Charlie. Take Harry with you. I need to talk to Hermione for a minute."

"What? No!" Harry cried. "Are you mad?"

Charlie completely ignored him. "Mere, you're clearly hurting. Let me help. I can get you to the infirmary-"

"Charlie, if you touch me, I'll hex you into tomorrow."

He froze. "It's that bad, is it?"

"Remember Prague?"

Charlie winced, took a couple steps back from her. "OK." He slid his hands into the seat pockets of his jeans. "I'll…I'll find you later tonight."

"Please don't."

Charlie's face went grim, and when he turned to Harry, he looked as though he might breathe fire. "All right, let's go."

Harry hesitated. Not only did he not want to leave with Charlie, he also didn't want to leave Hermione alone with Esmerelda. "Erm…"

"She'll be fine, Harry," Esmerelda assured.

"She doesn't know that how easily you can Read her," Harry objected.

"I'll explain it," Esmerelda said. "Go with Charlie. And Charlie – play nice. I mean it."

"Oh, we're just going to have a chat, Harry and me," Charlie said flatly. He clapped Harry on the shoulder a little too hard to be friendly and shoved him out the door.

"I mean it, Charlie!" Esmerelda called after them. "Let Ginny handle him!"

Out in the corridor, Charlie snorted his disgust. "She thinks all witches are like her. Bullocks! What would Ginny do to you?"

"You mean besides Bat-Bogey Hex me?"

Charlie considered him. "She is rather proficient in the hexes, it is true. But she'd never do you. She's loves you." He said it like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Well, she has," Harry told him, "and I'd rather stay off the receiving end of that."

"Ginny's hexed you?" Charlie asked, surprised. Then his brows lowered and he shook his head. "Don't become us, Harry. Me and Mere. It can only end badly. Be like Mum and Dad, or like Tonks and Remus. Hell, even Ron and Hermione would be better than me and Mere."

He stopped Harry with a hand to his arm. "What did you do to her?" Charlie wasn't looking at Harry when he asked.

"I…we…we shagged," Harry admitted, resentfully. No one should have to share these things.

"I know that," Charlie said. "What did you do? Are you taking the Potion?"

Harry jerked his arm away, his face flamed hot. It was none of this was Charlie's business. It was humiliating enough that Esmerelda stole it out of his head. Actually saying the words was torture. "I didn't do what you did your first time with Ez. _I_ _stopped_."

Charlie stepped back as if burned, and Harry felt a surge of gratification. And then he remembered what it felt like to have Charlie's cock inside him, and he had to look away. He did not want to know these things.

"She told you about that?" Charlie asked. "I don't know why I'm surprised. That witch has no boundaries."

"Yeah, well, she's not the only one, is she?"

Charlie narrowed his eyes, and his guilt shifted to something harder. "Watch yourself, you little bugger. This isn't about me-"

"I think it is. I saw the look on your face when Ez said I didn't do anything to Ginny that you hadn't already done to her. You messed it up with Ez, and you're standing there waiting for me to do the same with Ginny."

"I'm not waiting," Charlie said, his voice rising. "You're doing it! You're making all the same mistakes I've made – the only difference is Ginny's a doll, and Mere's a…" He took a deep breath. "Do you love her, Harry? I mean really love her? You're seventeen. That's quite young for love."

"What are you saying?"

"Walk away. If you can, Harry, leave her alone. Ginny's a great girl."

"The best," Harry agreed.

"If you can walk away, now is the time. It'll never be easier to leave than at this moment."

"Leave?"

Charlie nodded, but he didn't look at Harry. "I can set something up through the Order. You know, lessons at Headquarter, or something. We are devoted to helping you, Harry."

"Because I'm Harry Potter."

"Because you're Harry Potter," Charlie agreed. "But even if you weren't, I'd do anything that I could to help you not make the same mistakes I've made. And, to help Ginny. Think about it."

* * *

Harry did think about it. He thought and thought until his head ached and his stomach churned. He couldn't concentrate on his homework or the essay that was due in the morning. He couldn't sleep. He played the previous night over and over in his head, trying to think how he could've done it differently, how he might've salvaged his first time with Ginny – or avoided it all together. If he hadn't gone up the stairs, or if he hadn't left his bed at all; there were an infinite possible combinations, so why had things played out just as they had?

Esmerelda's memory kept creeping in, too, and he began to worry that Ginny's experience was even worse than he initially thought. Had she been afraid of him? He'd made her cry, and like Ez, Ginny never cried. Of course, that was the second time he'd made her cry since they'd come to Hogwarts that year. What the bloody hell was wrong with him?

Unable to lie still any longer, Harry kicked off his blankets and trudged down to the common room hoping to find Ginny, though not surprised when he didn't. He stared up the girls' stairs wondering if he wanted to risk setting off the alarms. It had to be nearly two in the morning. Maybe Hermione would fetch Ginny for him. Ginny wouldn't be sleeping, not all alone in her dorm. Hermione would be sleeping, though, and he had to wonder if it would be worth it to wake her.

He decided it was. But as he climbed the steps up to the Head Girl's room, Harry began to wonder if Hermione would be sleeping after all. He hadn't thought to look in Ron's bed to see if his mate was tucked in. Harry stopped on the landing and considered the closed door. He certainly didn't want a repeat of last night. He wasn't sure he could explain another encounter to Esmerelda – and she most certainly would find out, the bloody witch.

Knocking, he decided, was the safest bet. He'd knock, and if no one answered it would probably mean Hermione didn't want to be disturbed. Or, that she wasn't in there. Or, that she was bound and gagged by a roving band of Death Eaters who had already outsmarted the Aurors patrolling the Castle corridors. Harry was really too tired to apply logic.

It took a couple of minutes, but Hermione did answer the knock – _and_ she was wearing a gown and night robe. Thank Merlin. She squinted at him.

"Harry? What is it? Is Ron all right?"

If she had to ask, it meant Ron wasn't with her. Another relief.

"I need to speak to Ginny. Would you mind going to fetch her? We can talk down in the common room."

She blinked at him. "Harry, it's the middle of the night."

"I know. Look, I haven't seen her since…last night, and I just…I need to talk to her. Even if it's just her yelling. Even if she hexes me again."

"Ginny's sleeping, Harry."

"No, I'm not." Ginny's voice drifted out from the darkness in the room.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, and then cast _Luminos_. Several candles lit. When she opened the door wider, Harry saw that there were two beds in the room now, as well as a second wardrobe and trunk.

"Oh, brilliant!" Now Ginny wouldn't have to worry about being in the dorms at all. "I don't know why I didn't think of this."

"Yes," said Hermione as she crawled back into her bed. "It would've made loads more sense than sneaking a girl into your bed every night."

Ginny gave him an apologetic shrug from her tester bed. "I was upset, and it sort of slipped out."

"Can we talk?" Harry asked. "In the common room? I swear to be a perfect gentleman."

Ginny looked over at Hermione, who had already rolled with her back to them. She would be no help.

"Please?" Harry said.

The common room was, of course, empty. The fire had been aloud to burn out, so Harry lit it again. They settled on the couch, him at one end, and her at the other. Now that he had her there, he wasn't sure how to start. He decided to follow Hermione's advice.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what, exactly?" Ginny asked, staring at the flames. She was all gold and copper in the low, warm light, and Harry realized she had circles under her eyes. He should've let her sleep.

"I'm…I'm sorry for hurting you. For not stopping when you asked. For kissing you in the first place when you have a boyfriend. For asking you to dump Ernie. I know he's a better bloke than me." She didn't argue. "Ginny, I'm sorry I'm not the wizard you need me to be."

"Yeah," she said, a blanket non-committal. He'd thought maybe she'd insist that he was, or that he could be, and he was prepared for those arguments. He hadn't considered that she'd agree with him.

"Do you hate me, Ginny?" She'd said that she had, and he couldn't really blame her if she did. But he desperately wanted her to say no. He wanted her to say she loved him, so he could say it back. He was prepared for that now, too.

"I reckon I do," she said quietly.

He shivered. Well, then. Maybe it would be best to take Charlie up on his offer - not for him, but for her. He'd done enough to her all ready, maybe it was time to let her be.

Harry nodded a little to let her know he'd heard her. It took a couple of moments for him to find his voice around the emotion that clogged his throat. "Well…you'll be safe enough here, with Charlie and Ez, and the Aurors."

"What does that mean?"

"Just that, well, when I came to Hogwarts this year I was under the delusion that you needed me, that I could somehow protect you. But you don't need my protection, Ginny. You don't need anything that I can offer. You don't need me at all. I've only messed things up for you."

She sniffled, and he realized there were tears in her eyes as she stared down at her knees. "You're leaving again, aren't you?"

Her broken voice tugged at his heart. "Ginny, I think – I think it would be easier for you if I wasn't here. You know, running into you in on staircases in the middle of the night and ravishing you..." He shouldn't have made a joke out of it; he knew it as soon as it was out of his mouth.

"I was hardly ravished."

Hardly? "After last night, I thought you'd want me to go."

She pegged him with a hard look. "How long have you known me, Harry? Seven years? When have I ever – _ever_ – wanted you to go?"

"But I make things hard on you. I hurt you. I always do or say the wrong thing. I'm rubbish."

"I do wish you'd stop that, yes," she said lightly. "And your constant self-loathing is rather wearisome. And if you could be a little less petulant and self-obsessed, that would be nice, too."

Harry smirked and that almost got a smile out of her. She played with the hem of her t-shirt. Harry's smirk faded when he realized he was looking at a round, fist-sized bruise just above her navel. His own belly quivered.

"What happened?"

"What?" she looked at him and dropped her shirt back into place. He lifted the hem again just enough to see the bruise. She shivered.

"I didn't…did I do that?"

"No. That was my lovely prat of a brother over reacting in the DA. If Hermione so much as sneezes he's all over everyone else for making her sick." She looked down at her belly. "It's not so bad, really. He's given me loads worse."

"_What__?_"

"Well, not intentionally. I mean, he is my brother, and we did play rough when we were younger. He broke my collarbone once. But then, I broke a couple of his ribs, so it's not like I'm some weak little girl who can't take care of herself. I'm not, you know? I'm not weak."

"No," Harry said, "I'd never call you that." He ran a finger along the bottom of the bruise. "It looks like it hurts."

Her stomach muscles clenched, and he realized just how close he had leaned to her. It would take nothing at all to kiss her there. He licked his lips, and forced himself to sit up. Unfortunately, his pajamas did little in the way of camouflaging his new awareness of her. It was too much to hope she wouldn't notice, really. Her gaze lingered over his crotch, leaving him even tighter. He crossed his legs, and leaned an elbow on his knee.

"I'm going to sleep with Ernie." Her statement came out so casually Harry wondered if he'd heard her correctly. "After the Autumnal Equinox Dance. I thought you should know, in case you were thinking about 'ravishing' me again."

"You're…what? Why?"

"I don't really feel I owe you an explanation."

"But…" What the hell? "You don't love him. Why would you let him shag you?"

"I'm assuming that we'll be shagging each other," she said dryly.

"Is he pressuring you? Because if he is-"

"He doesn't even know yet. I mean, yeah, he's tried a couple of times – not for sex, I don't think, but for some heavy snogging. And I've been…hesitant. But after last night, there doesn't seem much point, does there? If I'm willing to have sex with you, I should probably let my boyfriend have a go."

"What? Are you mad?" Harry couldn't believe his ears. "But you don't _love_ him!"

She gave him a tired look. "I'm beginning to think love is over-rated. I'd rather have a little nice – and Ernie's definitely nice."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know." Her brows lowered. "I reckon I shouldn't have said anything."

Harry jumped up from the couch, began to pace. Maybe she was lying. Maybe she didn't have any intention to shag Ernie Macmillian. Bloody Head Boy. Maybe she was just trying to push Harry away for good, or trying to make him jealous. She was staring at the fire again, looking tired and petulant. Maybe she was telling the truth – he'd never known her to lie.

"Don't do it," he said. "Please. I'm sorry about everything. It was all my fault, so if this is about getting back at me somehow, just hex me. Punish me. Don't do this to yourself because I'm a selfish prick-"

"Believe it or not, Harry, I do, on occasion, make decisions that don't concern you."

"But you told me about it. You want me to stop it from happening. You want me to talk you out of it." When she didn't immediately disagree he pounced. "_I_ love you. _Me_. He doesn't love you. How can he possibly? He doesn't even know you. I can't believe you'd do that."

"Why not?" she asked without looking at him. "You believed it before."

So, she was punishing him. He couldn't say he didn't deserve it. "Just…just think about it. You haven't told Ernie, right? So it's not like there will be any pressure there. Talk to Hermione. Girls talk about those kinds of things, don't they?"

"I don't want to talk to Hermione, and I don't want to talk to you anymore, either. I should never have said anything." She headed back toward the stairs, but Harry stopped her with a hand to her arm.

"Please, Ginny," he whispered.

"Enough." She yanked her arm from his grasp. "If you're going to leave, then leave, and if you're not, then stop torturing me with it."

"I won't leave," Harry said. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"Harry, you have no bleeding idea what I want to hear, so just…let me go."

* * *

It took three knocks before Charlie answered the next morning. He opened the door, still half-asleep, with the right side of his ginger hair plastered straight up. When he saw that it was Harry, he lowered his wand and seemed to blink fully awake.

"You look like shit, Harry. What's wrong?"

"I didn't sleep. I've been up most of the night."

"Want to come in, then?"

It was clear Charlie had just rolled out of bed. There wasn't even any water on for tea yet. Charlie pointed at the chair by the dark fireplace, and once Harry had taken a seat, he lit the hearth. Charlie busied himself with filling the kettle. With his back to Harry, Harry decided it would be a good time to say what he'd come to say.

"I wanted to thank you for your offer to school me at Headquarters."

Charlie paused for a moment, and then put the kettle on to boil. He methodically pulled two cups from the cupboard, and a small bowl of sugar. When he turned and leaned against the counter, he gave Harry a hard look and nodded.

"Right, then," he said with a sigh. "I'll set things up through Moody. We can move you to Headquarters this morning."

"Actually, no," Harry said. "Thank you for your offer, but I can't accept."

Charlie's blue eyes narrowed on him. "You're sure? You've thought about this, then?"

All night long. And if he left now, he wouldn't ever be able to come back. He would be saying good-bye to Ginny forever. "I just…I love her. I can't leave it like this."

For a long moment Charlie studied him. He was going to try to talk Harry out of staying. Harry had thought that he might, though he didn't have much in the way of defense.

"Look," Harry continued. "She loves me, too. I know it. I'm not willing to give up on her. Not ever."

"So, then, you're going to win her back?"

"I reckon I will," Harry said.

Charlie rubbed his shoulder thoughtfully. "You have a plan?"

"Er…not as such, no."

"It's not going to be easy," Charlie warned.

"It doesn't really matter, does it? Not when you love them." He couldn't let her sleep with Ernie. She was just angry at Harry, and if she did it, she would only hate Harry more – or hate herself, and he had to do everything he could to keep that from happening.

"Nothing much matters when you love them," Charlie agreed. "It should. But it doesn't. Why is that, you reckon?"

Harry hadn't the foggiest. Charlie was generally a fun, happy bloke, a smart wizard, and very level-headed. It was certainly why he was chosen to be the new Secret Keeper for the Order. He was reliable. He was shrewd. But Harry had seen him completely come apart over Esmerelda. He'd seen him afraid of her, furious at her, and wanting her so badly it took Harry's breath away. This one witch reduced Charlie to a bizarre, stumbling sort of insanity Harry wasn't sure Charlie wanted to be free from.

"You're trying to win Ez, then?"

The teapot on the stove began to whistle then, and Charlie ignored the question feigning interest in tea leaves and spoonfuls of sugar. When he finally handed Harry his cup, he said stiffly, "That witch can't be won. But, Ginny's different."

"She's got a bloke," Harry said.

"That does pose a problem," Charlie agreed. "But it's not insurmountable."

"She said he's the best boyfriend she's ever had."

Charlie's thick ginger brows lowered. "She said that to you?"

While they were having sex. "Yeah."

"Hmph." Charlie sipped his tea. "You were friends first, yes?"

"Yeah. She was in the DA with us, and we were on the Quidditch team together."

"Good, then. Build on the friendship. Friendship is important. It cements the rest of the relationship." Charlie stared in his tea for a moment, and Harry decided to leave him to his contemplations. Harry had enough to think about on his own.

"I've got class," Harry said, and he excused himself. Charlie gave him a distracted wave as Harry hurried out the door.

Ginny would be at breakfast, wouldn't she? And even if not, Hermione and Ron would most certainly be there, and Hermione would know where Ginny was, now that they were roommates. Maybe she'd even agree to help Harry win Ginny back. He could certainly use a little cleverness.

* * *

Ginny was at breakfast, and sitting with Ron and Hermione when Harry hurried in. She greeted him with a stiff smile, but a smile nonetheless. Harry took the seat next to her.

"I see you're still here," she said mildly around a mouthful of potato.

"As I said I would be," Harry said. He spooned scrambled eggs on to his plate.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you'll have a noble change of mind soon enough."

Harry bowed his head. "I deserved that. Look, could we talk? Go for a walk or something before class?"

A sharp kick to the shin ended that, and Harry glared at Ron, who was glaring back at him. _What_? he mouthed.

_No_, Ron mouthed right back.

Harry was nervous about Ron. He'd been quite vocal about Harry not dating anyone, let alone his sister – not that Harry really blamed him. Harry had been a bad boyfriend. Embarrassingly bad. Inexcusably bad. And now, if Harry didn't play it just right, he might not only lose Ginny, but his best mate as well.

Maybe that was where he should start, with Ron.

"Are you still pouting?" Hermione asked Ron, who sat across from her. He was pushing his food around, and scowling.

"You could've asked me. That's all I'm saying."

Ginny gave Harry a conspiratorial sigh. His heart soared.

"It's not really any of your business, Ron," Hermione said levelly.

His eyes flashed at her, saying he thought it bloody well was his business, but he knew better than to say it aloud. "How long is she going to be rooming with you, then?"

"For the rest of the year, I would think." Hermione looked happily over at Ginny. "Wouldn't you say?"

"Mmm, yes, please," Ginny said, ignoring her brother's groan.

"But Ginny," Ron whined, "You've already got that whole dormitory to yourself! Isn't that enough? Do you really have to push into Hermione's room as well?"

"I reckon I do," Ginny said lightly. She was enjoying torturing Ron. And so was Hermione, from the cat-like smirk on her face.

"It's settled, Ron, so just get used to it," Hermione told him.

"Well, that's bloody great," Ron snipped, and he let his fork clatter to his plate.

"Ron, don't swear."

"I won't if you will," he muttered, grumpily.

The girls exchanged knowing smiles. Harry couldn't help but feel bad for Ron. It had to be a crushing blow to learn that your Head Girl girlfriend wouldn't be entertaining in her easily-accessible-to-boys room any longer. But then Ginny turned her smile on Harry again, and Ron's woes were all but forgotten.

"So?" Ginny breathed. "A walk?"

Ron choked, and Hermione quickly asked, "Have you finished with your Defense homework, Harry? Shall I take a look at your essay tonight after DA?"

"Yeah, all right," Harry said to both of them, but his gaze was full of Ginny.

Ron kicked Harry again.

"Bloody hell!" Harry barked. "What was that for?"

"You know what!" Ron insisted.

"Really, I'm supposed to meet Ernie," Ginny said. "But…maybe we could get a bit of practice in before DA tonight. After supper?"

"I…I still have detention," Harry reluctantly said. Bloody, stupid Ez with her bloody, stupid detention.

"Oh," Ginny said. She stared down at her plate. "All right, then."

"But…but maybe I could get out of it. I mean, the DA is important, too, and it's not like I would be loafing or anything. And we need to practice. I haven't gotten any practice in at all –"

"Neither have I," Ginny quickly added.

"See?"

"What are you doing?" Ron asked. He looked suspiciously from Harry to Ginny, and then back to Harry again. "She's got a bloke!"

"Er…Ron…if they're going to be practicing, then maybe we could practice, too," Hermione brightly suggest.

"Harry, I need to speak to you. Outside," Ron said, teeth clenched.

"Did you hear me?" Hermione asked, a little panic showing in her eyes. "I said we could _practice_. We'll have my room all to ourselves."

As he registered her implication, Ron's gaze shifted to her. "We'll be alone?"

"All alone. Between supper and the DA. In my room."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

Ron's eyes flickered to Harry, but they didn't stay on him for long. "Well, then," Ron said. "I reckon that's a brilliant idea." A smile spread across his face as he contemplated their practice. And suddenly he must've found his eggs delicious, because he shoveled them in ravenously.

* * *

Charlie talked to Ez for Harry, and he helped him secure a room for practice with Ginny that night, and they did just that. They practiced hexing and jinxing each other until they were both sweating and breathless. They practiced the next night, and the night after that, as well. Days passed, and Charlie watched Harry and Ginny duel in the DA with a look of quiet consternation.

"I don't like this," he said every night as he helped Harry heal his wounds. "It feels far too familiar."

Harry never said anything in response. He didn't care what Charlie said. Being Ginny's DA partner meant they were spending real time together, with no boyfriend in sight. There was a comfortable familiarity growing between them that left him hopeful. He looked forward to the DA, meals, and homework in the common room; to the lingering looks and accidental hand touches. But that's all it was between them, subtle flirting and companionable fighting. At night his dreams were beyond erotic.

Esmerelda's attempt to tire out the student population in lieu of Quidditch was a raging success, and so the four of them did homework together late at night, while their bodies ached and their brains felt like goo. The seventh year N.E.W.T essays were endless. Even if Harry devoted every last waking hour to his reading list, he never would've been able to plow through it, but Harry didn't mind. The work was all worth it to be able to sit beside Ginny and help her with her classes - not that she needed any help. Harry was continually astounded by her level of complete understanding. In most subjects she was so far beyond him it was laughable. He loved reading her three rolls of parchment on the many uses of dragons' blood as an element rather than an ingredient in potions. Even her mind was sexy.

Thursday came too quickly, though, and Harry woke that morning with an ominous gloom. That night would be the night that would make or break him. That night was the Autumnal Equinox Dance.


	13. Chapter 12 The Autumnal Equinox Dance

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 12 – The Autumnal Equinox Dance

Hermione hurried down the dorm stairs, and Harry jumped up from the common room couch to meet her before she made it out the Portrait Hole.

"Oi! Hermione! Is Ginny still up there?"

She slowed, but didn't stop, and her expression was…confusing. Was she purposely trying to avoid him?

"Hermione?" He ran after her.

"Uh…no. She left early this morning." She stepped out into the corridor, and Harry followed.

"Left?"

"Didn't she go down to you?"

"If she had, why would I be asking? Go down? When?"

"I don't know," she snapped, and hugged her books closer to her chest. She hurried down the Gryffindor Tower stairs, but then they shifted and she had to stop to wait for the next landing to connect. "Harry, I don't now anything."

"What time did she leave?"

"Early."

"Like six in the morning, early?"

"Like…two."

"She left the bloody room at two in the morning, and you didn't stop her?"

"I _thought_ she was going to your bed, Harry, so no, I didn't bloody stop her!"

"She obviously wasn't!" Harry snapped back.

"Well, with the Aurors patrolling the halls, it's not like she was running around the castle all night," Hermione said with a huff. Meaning, she couldn't have left Gryffindor Tower to meet her boyfriend for an illicit night of passion. "Maybe she just needed some space, and went down to the common room."

"Then where is she?" Harry demanded.

"Well, we are late for breakfast. Perhaps she went down earlier."

"I've been waiting since seven," Harry said.

"Curfew ends at sun-up. She might've gone down to eat earlier, or to the library – we do have a ridiculous amount of homework-"

"She's with Ernie," Harry said. Somehow saying it out loud hurt so much more than just screaming it in his head. So, he said it again. "She's gone to Ernie."

"Did you two have another row?"

"No!" Harry said, wounded by her accusation. Ginny didn't need a row with Harry as an excuse to see Ernie. She was already planning it. But she'd said after the dance, and Harry still should've had all day to get through to her. Unless…

"Has she said anything to you?" Harry asked. "You know, about Ernie?" He shoved his fists into his pockets. "About tonight?"

"About tonight?" Hermione asked. "What do you mean? She's going to the dance tonight. We all are." The staircase finally connected with the next landing.

"Never mind," Harry grumbled, and pushed past her. It was time for Double Potions, and Harry was going to kill his Potions partner.

"Harry, wait," Hermione called after him.

He was beyond waiting. He'd been careful not to touch Ginny, or pressure her, or make her uncomfortable. Friendship, Charlie had said. Develop the friendship. Remind her of why she liked him in the first place. What a load of bullocks! Effing Charlie with his effing advice. Why was Harry taking advice from the likes of him, anyway? Where did Charlie Weasley get off giving anyone witch advice? He was the absolute last person Harry should've listened to.

"Oh, Harry, please slow down! You're not thinking properly!"

"Yes, I am!"

"Clearly, you're not!"

Harry whirled around to face her. "And can you blame me? Say it's Ron and Lavender again, not Ginny and Ernie-"

"What?"

"It's Ron and Lavender, and he's told you he's going to shag her, and when, and you've only got a few days to make sure it doesn't happen. But, he's gone off early, snuck out in the middle of the night to bag the prettiest girl in our year." The horror in her eyes should've told him he'd gone too far, but Harry was so lost in his own hurt that he barely saw her at all. "He doesn't love her, he loves you, but he's going to shag the bloody hell out of her because you made a mistake. Because you didn't say the right thing, you didn't do the right thing, because you fucked him in a moment of weakness, and now he wants to hurt you back. You're sorry, but it doesn't matter! You love him, but it's not good enough! And you know the exact minute it all went to hell, and no matter what you do or say or think you can't ever get that moment back!" His chest was heaving, his cheeks on fire. "Now tell, me Hermione, are you thinking clearly? Ron's fucking Lavender, are you–"

She slapped him hard and sharp, and it shocked him back a step. It was then that he saw the tears in her eyes, the color in her face, the pain. "Why do you think I've been helping you?" Hermione said. "Why do you think I didn't stop Ginny last night? _I know_, Harry. You don't have to tell me, because I _know_! And how dare you suggest that Ron running to Lavender was my fault!"

"No, I didn't mean… of course, it wasn't your fault." Actually, it was most likely Ginny's fault for telling Ron that Hermione had snogged Viktor Krum in fourth year. That tidbit of information had sent him into a tailspin.

"I've known you a long time, Harry, and you've never treated people as abysmally as you are now. Last year you never would've thrown Ron and Lavender in my face like that. Ron would've, but not you. You're too good for that."

Apparently he wasn't.

"What's happened to you? Is it Dumbledore's death? It was hard on all of us, but I know it was doubly so on you. We never talked about it-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Hermione."

"Well, I don't want this new Harry anymore! He's mean and selfish, and he's a bloody bully!"

That hurt more than the slap. He didn't know how to respond, because he knew she wasn't wrong.

Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration, and grabbed the hand he had pressed to his cheek. As she dragged him down the seventh floor corridor, he was very conscious that not only was she leading him away from class, but that she was also holding his hand rather tightly. His knuckle bones ground together.

"So…we're not going to Double Potions?" he hesitantly asked. It didn't seem prudent to question her, but he couldn't help himself.

"There are more important things than school, Harry."

"You did not just say that."

She smirked. "Don't tell Ron."

She led him through corridor after corridor, and then up the Astronomy Tower steps. Harry hadn't been back since Dumbledore was killed. At the base of the steps - that was where Ginny and Neville had fought - his eyes lingered. That night might've turned out so differently. As they got higher up the twisting staircase, Harry's chest drew tighter. He realized what Hermione was doing. She was taking him back.

"No." He stopped near a tall, thin window. The light outside was bright and white.

Hermione refused to let go of his hand. "It'll be all right," she told him. "I'll be there with you."

It was bad enough to come back to the castle. Harry didn't think he could stand on that rampart, too. "Hermione, I can't."

"You can't carry on like you've been doing, can you?"

"You don't understand. It's not about Dumbled…" He couldn't even say his name here.

She looked down at their clasped hands. "Then help me to understand, Harry. Please. You're my best friend, and it's like I don't even know you anymore."

"You're being dramatic. I haven't changed that much. Besides, you're the one making us skive off class. Maybe it's you who's changed." And suddenly the image of her lying on her bed, starkers, touching herself while Ron went down on her flew into his mind. Her watching him watch her. His face went hot. He pulled his hand away from her. "All right, maybe we've both changed." He glanced out the window to keep from staring at her chest.

Why did Hermione have to grow breasts and turn into a proper witch? Why couldn't she be the exception? Sometimes it was bloody hell having a girl for a best mate.

"Come with me, Harry," she whispered. "Tell me what happened."

"You don't want to know," he said, but she linked her arm with his, and he allowed her to pull him up a couple more steps.

"You need to share it."

It was almost surreal climbing those stairs in the daylight - seeing the stone floor and walls, seeing the heavy oak door latched shut. The traitor Snape had come through that door with his black robes billowing behind him. It wasn't even three months ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. It felt like yesterday.

"I'm here," Hermione reminded him as she opened the door.

Harry blinked against the sun. The air was brisk, and the wind was up. Hermione's hair whipped around, but she didn't let go of his hand. She surveyed the rampart. It was deceptively empty.

"So…over there then?" she asked, pointing to the crenellations along the wall that led down to the courtyard below; square stone teeth gaping at the grounds. That was where Dumbledore died, and where his body was flung over the wall like a heap of rubbish.

Harry couldn't even nod.

"And where were you? He froze you, you said."

He didn't want to do this, but his free hand lifted anyway, pointed to the corner behind the door. How long had he been stuck there with his Invisibility Cloak thrown over him? Hours? Days? "When you're frozen you don't cry, even when your soul is dying."

"Oh, Harry." She gripped his arm tighter.

There was a squeezing in his chest that kept air from his lungs. He began to shake.

"Over here, then," Hermione whispered, and she pulled him to the spot he'd been on that night.

In his mind's eye he could see Draco now, all pale and hateful in the dark. And he could almost hear Dumbledore's voice…_I can help you, Draco_…_you are not a killer_…_Jokes_? _No, no, these are manners_. Harry gave a grunting giggle. Dumbledore was running rings around them that night, and none of them knew it.

"Harry? Are you all right?"

"I'm feeling a bit off," he admitted. He couldn't quite catch his breath. Images of darkness kept mixing with the bright light; as if he was flashing between two places at once. He felt sick.

"Do you want to sit?"

Sit? He couldn't sit. He couldn't move. He was frozen all over again.

"There were two more Death Eaters, after Draco. Odd-looking. Like they'd done themselves with magic one too many times. Dumbledore knew them, and they knew him. They wouldn't go near him. And then Greyback came out, in his human form. He still looked bestial. Lupin never looks like that. Greyback looked like he could eat a man whole."

_Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little…_

Harry tittered again, and the corners of his eyes went white with light. He blinked it back. Hermione's arms went around his middle. Why hadn't he remembered how funny Dumbledore had been?

"It's all right, Harry, I've got you."

She was so close he could smell her skin, feel her warmth through their jumpers. He touched her nose. "When did you get so pretty?" Of course, Hermione had always been pretty, but the browns in her hair and eyes seemed exceptionally bright against the dark of his encroaching memories.

"Just sit here and catch your breath," she said. Harry's head was spinning. He was falling. There was no air.

"There was another Death Eater, too. He was over there. I don't remember him too well. Isn't that odd. Parts of it seem like a dream I had forever ago, and parts feel as if they're happening now. It's happening now. I was so scared." He took a gulp of air. "I'm scared, Hermione."

"I'm here."

"No, you're not."

He couldn't breathe, couldn't blink. Why had Dumbledore frozen him? He couldn't fight like this, couldn't escape. Why wasn't Dumbledore running? They weren't attacking. What were they saying?

"_'__Severus…Severus, please.'_ Those were Dumbledore's last words. It was terrifying to hear those words come from Dumbledore. To hear him pleading for his life."

Hermione's breath hitched.

"He blew the door open, and he stood there like the traitor that he was, leering at us all, as if we were less than the filth on his shoes. The other Death Eaters seemed…frightened of him. Odd that, really, to see a thing like Greyback shrink from Snape. And then Dumbledore…"

_Avada Kedavra__!_

"It's a green flash, you know. The Killing Curse. And it's over in a split second. I'd seen it before, with Cedric, but nothing can prepare you for the shock of it. It's an instant of bedlam, and your mind rebels. Your whole body tries to jump back in time to the moment before when it hasn't happened yet. But, of course, you're stuck in reality, and he's dead…suspended, just there." Harry pointed over the battlements. Hermione shuddered against him. She was crying. "Murder shouldn't be that easy."

"Snape just killed him? Without saying a word to him?"

"Without blinking. He's killed before."

"And you were frozen here," Hermione said.

"I couldn't save him."

"No," Hermione whispered, and she pressed her temple against his. "But he was able to save you, wasn't he?"

"It's not a fair trade."

"It might have been the only one he could make. He had faith in you, Harry. Dumbledore always believed in you. I believe in you."

The darkness faded into the clear-skied morning, and Hermione sat between his bent legs on the cold rampart. Wind whipped around them, tugging their hair and clothes. It was cold, and they were both shivering. Hermione had tears tracking down from her red eyes. He held her face, wiped her tears away with his thumbs. They should've been his, not hers.

"Why did you do this with me? It would've been better for you not to know."

"Now you don't have to carry the burden alone."

"I'm supposed to be alone."

Hermione's brows knit in resigned frustration. She reached up to his face and drew a finger along the jagged scar on his forehead. "_'And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…'_" Hermione quoted. "Harry, you are never alone. You can't be. We all love you too much."

"How do you know that? I-I never told you about the prophecy."

"Dumbledore knew you needed help. He knew how important your friends would be to you, even if you're too thick to figure it out for yourself."

He leaned to her, placed a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"For being such a bloody good friend."

"Well, then," she said, and briefly pressed her mouth to his. There was no lingering, no spark, and when they broke apart they smiled.

* * *

"You look good, mate," Ron said, standing behind Harry as they looked in the mirror. Harry ran a hand though his hair. It sprang back into its usual mayhem almost immediately. The truth was, without dress robes Harry looked the same as he always did in a t-shirt and jeans, and school jumper. And even if he did look good, there wasn't any particular reason for it. Ginny would be with Ernie. Tall, handsome Ernie whose dark hair did exactly what he wanted it to all the bloody time.

Ernie was everything Harry wasn't. Or, more importantly, Ernie was what Harry might've been if he didn't have the scar. The earlier calm and acceptance he'd reached in the Astronomy Tower was melting now into fatigue and ennui. Harry couldn't remember the last time he got a full night's sleep, or had a proper meal.

"So…are you taking anyone?" Ron collapsed down on his bed, and flopped backwards. He'd made the question sound casual, but Harry knew that it wasn't.

"Who would I take?" Harry asked.

"Luna?" Ron said, shrugging.

"She'd only want to dance," Harry said, avoiding Ron's glances as much as Ron was avoiding his.

"You're not going to dance, then?"

"What's it to you?" Harry asked.

"Ginny's going with Ernie."

"Yeah. I'd worked that one out on my own, thanks."

"It's just that the two of you have been a bit friendly lately."

"She's my friend, Ron."

Ron gave him a hard look then, and Harry didn't dare glance away. "What happened to swearing off witches?"

"I'm still Hermione's friend, too," Harry said. "Do you have a problem with that, as well?"

Ron was not about to get sidetracked. "You're a rubbish boyfriend."

"Agreed," Harry said, flopping back on his own bed. "But I'm not dating anyone, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Harry," Ron groaned. "You're killing me! She's my sister!"

"What do you want from me?" Harry sat up, exasperated. "Ginny's going with Ernie to the dance! Ernie's her boyfriend!"

"I'm not blind!" Ron sat up, too. "I see the way you look at her! The way she looks at you! I know what those DA practices are all about! You're trying to woo her!"

Only Ron Weasley could say woo and actually mean it. "Would that be so bad?"

"Yeah! If I have to kill you!"

It rankled that Ron was the only one who didn't want Harry and Ginny back together, and the only one who Harry really needed support from. "So, what do you want me to do? Ignore her?"

"Admit it! You still fancy her."

"I love her, Ron."

Apparently this was not the response Ron was expecting because his face went from accusation to stunned horror. "But…but you're not going to…she's with Ernie now."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I know."

"Fine, then." Ron flopped back down and stared up at his canopy. "Well…bloody hell. It…it must be awful."

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"I think, if Hermione was dating someone else…I don't know what I'd do. I'd go mental."

"You'd try to win her back."

"Yeah. I reckon I would."

There was a handful of minutes where both boys just laid there, each lost in thoughts of their girls. Then Ron sat up, swung his feet off the bed. "But Ginny's not Hermione, and you're not me." And with that, Ron walked out of the room.

* * *

It was sunset in the Great Hall. The usual House tables were replaced with what looked like long, flat stones arranged in a circle around the central dance floor, and the usual vaulted ceiling had grown into great, gnarled trees that rained down yellow, red and orange leaves that faded away just overhead. There was music, too, though Harry couldn't quite decide where it was coming from. It had a slow, soulful melody, like wind through stones. It matched his mood.

Students arrived in couples and groups of four, laughing and talking excitedly. There was Seamus and Padma near the punch table, and Neville with that Hufflepuff in Ginny's year – they were laughing together.

Harry's attention was capture over by the door. Ginny came in not smiling, but looking amazing in her green skirt and school robes. How did she manage to make school robes look sexy? Her hair was up and curly for once, and she wore color around her eyes and cheeks. Her mouth was full and rosy and glossy. Harry caught himself licking his lips.

She hadn't seen him yet, and Harry didn't want her to. He wanted to be able to watch her, soak her up. He thought he might die if their eyes locked while she was holding Ernie's arm. Slowly Harry stepped backward, and tried to melt into the darkness near the walls.

"She's very pretty."

Harry jumped. He'd almost stepped on Luna Lovegood. Her hair was up as well, piled so high on her head it looked like a dollop of crème fresh. "Oh. I didn't see you."

"Most people don't," Luna said evenly in her airy sing-song. "Sometimes it's best just to step out of their way."

He nodded absently, not caring that he didn't know what she was talking about. Ernie led Ginny past the punch bowl to where Neville stood with – Vickie she was called. Or Lizzy.

"Oh, good. He's found her, then."

Harry turned to follow Luna's gaze. Ron and Hermione had just walked in. They didn't hold hands or link arms, but it was very clear that they were there together. Hermione made a bee-line for Ginny, and Ron followed slowly, scanning the room. When he found Harry he gave him an approving nod. Harry glanced at Luna. No doubt Ron thought he'd taken his advice. The prat.

"He went spare when Hermione didn't make it to Double Potions this morning. Padma was telling her sister that he kept saying _'They've left without me_!' and Professor Weasley kept telling him to sit down and shut up. I can't imagine a professor saying shut up. It seems wholly unprofessional, don't you think?"

Harry hadn't even considered how Ron would take his and Hermione's absence from class. He'd missed so many classes already this year that he hadn't really thought too much about it. But, of course, Ron knew Hermione would never miss class unless she was in the infirmary on the brink of death. Or, if she'd run off to do something dangerous.

"Professor Weasley kept taking points from Gryffindor. Padma said it was at least a hundred, but I can't imagine that's true. And then Ron walked out, and Professor Weasley gave him detention. It must be difficult to have to discipline your brother."

Was she honestly on Percy's side? What about Ron? He must've been going out of his mind with worry. Funny how he hadn't brought it up when the two of them were in the dorm earlier.

Ron had wandered over to the punch table and was busy stuffing small pieces of food in his mouth while Hermione pulled Ginny aside to talk. Ernie seemed happy enough to remain chatting with Neville and…Lucy, was it? Clarissa? Harry's heart beat a little faster as he wondered what Hermione could be saying to Ginny. Would they look his way? Would she catch him staring?

He purposely looked away, and his eyes landed on Tonks. She was hard to miss, really, her hair clashed with just about everything in the room. She was smiling and laughing at something Esmerelda had said. Ez had only the barest of smiles at the corner of her mouth. Percy stood between them, for once not looking like a pompous stick-in-the-mud. When he smiled he looked younger. It was probably the reason he never smiled, Harry decided. Percy looked at Esmerelda and they shared a glance that lingered a little too long.

Normally that sort of thing would've been of little interest to Harry, even less because it involved Percy. But he and Charlie had commiserated over their lost loves, and now Harry felt him a kindred soul of a sort. And Ez…Harry had trouble defining his relationship with her. A reluctant student to her complete madness? Yes, certainly. But there was more there, too, because when Ez touched Percy's arm, he felt both betrayal on Charlie's behalf, and concern for her. Did Ez know what a prat Percy was? Did she understand that he was a minion for the Ministry, and therefore not to be trusted? Tonks knew, of course. She'd gone to school with Percy, and she was close with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. But Ez was an outsider. What the bloody hell could she possibly see in him?

Nothing, Harry told himself. She was just being polite. He was imagining things. She loved Charlie, _end of_.

"Fancy some punch?" Harry needed a distraction.

"Oh, yes, thank you. I'd really love some punch." Luna beamed at him.

Ron greeted him with a nod and a grunt next to the refreshments table.

"What are Hermione and Ginny talking about?" Harry asked as he poured Luna's drink.

"You, I reckon," Ron said. "But I was dismissed. She's never done that before. Called it girl-talk. What the bloody hell is that?"

Just as Luna accepted her drink, the lights dimmed, and the music faded. A hush swept through the room. Professor McGonagall, in her Headmistress robes, stood at the center of the circular dance floor, with several dozen fire fairies buzzing about her. She seemed to twinkle in the twilight.

"The first dance," she announced, "will be lead by the Head Boy and Head Girl."

"Right, then," Ron said, setting down his plate of stuffed partridge eggs and chocolate pebbles. He took three steps before he realized that Hermione had already taken Ernie's arm, and the two of them were walking towards Professor McGonagall. Hermione threw an apologetic wave of her fingers over her shoulder at him. "What the…bloody hell!"

Harry was less concerned with Ron. If Ernie was dancing with Hermione, then that meant…

Ginny faded back behind the other students watching the Head Girl and Boy. This might be the last time Harry had a chance to talk to her tonight. The music started again, a formal sort of song, and Hermione stepped into Ernie's outstretched arms. With Ron sufficiently distracted, Harry slipped away, behind the on-lookers, along the darkened walls of the Great Hall, and circled around. Why was the room so bloody enormous? It took him precious minutes to make his way close enough, and push his way through until he was standing behind her.

"Dance with me," he whispered in her ear.

She jumped, but he stopped her from turning around with a hand to her shoulder. He slipped back, behind the others, back into the darkness that clung to the walls. And slowly, Ginny took a few steps backwards, and didn't turn to face him until she was sure no one had noticed.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "Hermione told me about the Astronomy-"

"I'm good," he said, quickly silencing that thought. "Dance with me."

"I…I don't know that I should," she said.

"I'm going to win you back," he told her, though he didn't know why. Was it best to warn her, to give her time to concoct a defense strategy?

"I…er…what?"

"I love you, Gin. I want you back."

"But…Ernie-"

"Did you sleep with him this morning?"

"This morning?"

"I don't care if you did. I just want you."

It was too dark to make out her expression, but the fire fairies on the dance floor glittered in her eyes.

"Dance with me," he begged in a whisper. She slipped her arms around his neck. He pulled her close.

The embrace wasn't the most passionate they'd ever shared, but it felt so good to have her body against his. He hugged her, and tried to remember to move his feet to the music. Her cheek was on his shoulder when he felt her sigh.

It broke his heart that he had to steal this moment from some other bloke, and that they had to hide in the shadows. "I've messed everything up, Ginny. I'm sorry. So very, very sorry."

"Don't talk," she said. Her mouth found his neck. Hot breath and moist lips just below his ear; not a kiss, but a command. "Touch me," she whispered against him.

"I am."

"No, Harry. _Touch_ me."

He hesitated. She couldn't mean…could she? His wand hand slipped beneath her school robes and found her waist. He felt up, over her ribs, smoothing her shirt against her skin. He cupped the underside of her breast.

She let out a breath against his cheek. "Squeeze," she said. And then when he did, "Lower."

He slipped his hand down over her firm belly, and he felt a shiver ripple through her. "Lower," she quietly commanded, and his fingers dipped down to the waist of her skirt. Her hands were gripping his shoulders, and he knew that even if they were standing in full daylight their robes were loose enough to conceal what he was doing to her. So, when she said, "Lower," again, he didn't think twice about sliding his hand down the front of her skirt, and lifting the hem.

Her thigh was warm and soft and firm. He loved what Quidditch had done to her body. Her leg felt muscular and solid in his hand. Her bum clenched when he gripped it. He was rewarded with a soft moan in his ear; it went straight to his cock. Was she as aroused as he was? He wanted to know. Harry took a deep breath, and then ran his hand over her hip to cup her hot front, and couldn't help the smile when he found her knickers damp. She thrust against his palm. This was how she wanted him to touch her.

Her breathing turned ragged when he swept her knickers to one side and ran a few fingers through the patch of dense hair beneath. He waited for her to tell him to stop. He listened for any sign that she didn't want his fingers to part her, to slip into her heat, but all he felt were her hands griping his shoulders tighter, and the encouraging buck from her hips. He caressed the smooth, slick flesh until it gave way, and he found an entrance. She clenched around him. She gasped. He pressed his forehead against hers.

"Two," she said. Two fingers. Two fingers inside her. Harry had to swallow his own groan.

He slowly pumped his hand, massaged the tightness, and then pushed a second finger inside her. Her eyes were closed. She shuddered. He eased back, and then thrust in again, and again, and again. Her breathes on his mouth became rapid and shallow.

"Outside," she whimpered. "Oh, shit, touch me on the outside."

She was so hot and slick that he wasn't sure where his fingers were. He did his best to follow her strangled commands: "Higher…higher…back and forth…side to side…oh, shit, faster…"

Every word out of her mouth, every puff of warm, moist air on his face drew his own body tighter and fuller. She strained for him. She bit her lip. "In…out…_faster_…" His hips began to thrust in time with his hand, but without the pleasure of friction to help him build. It was her tiny noises, her breathes, the feel of her body as she clenched around his fingers that spurred him on. Ginny, in her school robes was the single most erotic thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"Shit!"

She came with a gasp, and a second later she stepped away from him and hurried back to the others. Harry felt the faint tingle of a Cleaning Charm on his hand – she must've cast it as she rushed away. Harry watched her go, realizing that the lights had come up and the music had ended, but not knowing when it had happened. No one seemed to notice their tryst by the wall, though Hermione did see Ginny rushing toward her and Ernie, and she followed a trail back to Harry to see where she'd just come from. Hermione smiled. So did Harry.

But, his erection raged, and as the music started up again, and Ernie's arms went around Ginny's waist, Harry knew he had to get out of there. Dazed with arousal, he headed toward the doors.

"Hullo, Harry!" Charlie came in smiling just as Harry was going out. "How's the party?"

"Brilliant," Harry said, his eyes on the floor.

"Yes, it looks it. Everyone having a good time? Oi! Where are you going?" Charlie caught him by the shoulder and pulled Harry back into the Great Hall. "It's time for some fun, Harry. You've been working too hard these last few weeks, and I'm sorry to say it's only going to get worse from here. So, have a good night tonight. Dance. Let loose. That's what I plan to do."

Harry nodded, but he was dying inside. Not only had he just given Charlie's sister a hand-job, but now that he was sporting a painful semi, and Charlie's hand was on his shoulder, Harry couldn't help but think of Ez's memory and what it felt like to have Charlie's cock inside him. Charlie's big, purple-

"Say, Harry, you all right, mate?"

"Brilliant," Harry said again, trying to figure out how to shrug out from under Charlie's grasp without letting on how unnerved he was.

The music's tempo slowed and the dancers began to thin out. Many students went to get punch, or find a seat at one of the stone tables where bite-sized foods had appeared. Harry thought to take advantage of the distraction and slip out of the Hall, but his eyes lingered on Ginny, now standing very close to her boyfriend, her arms around his waist and her cheek on his chest. Even from across the room Harry could see the fairy lights glittering in her teary eyes. She was thinking about what she and Harry had done, and she was regretting it.

"You look a little peaked."

"Must be the punch."

"Hmm." Charlie looked back out over the dance floor. "Ginny looks like she's enjoying herself. How are things going with her? You both have been dramatically improving in the DA."

"We've been practicing," Harry admitted.

"And talking?"

"Not as much."

"We can work on that."

Ron and Hermione were laughing together as Ron tried several Muggle dance moves Hermione had shown him. They looked like they were having fun.

"You should join them," Charlie urged. "Not all of these songs are couple dances."

Yeah, join them. Esmerelda would have a fit. And Harry's head just might explode. "I'd rather not," Harry said.

"Suit yourself."

"Wotcher, Harry! Oi, Charlie, care to burn the dance floor?" Tonks came up beside them, cheeks flush and grinning from ear to ear. "Do you remember our Equinox Dance? Were we ever this bloody young? Even when we were this young, we couldn't have been this young." She hadn't bothered with her robes, and wore a short, yellow leather skirt, a lime green sleeveless shirt under a loose lavender jumper, and bright blue lipstick.

Charlie put his arm casually over her shoulders, and smiled at her. "You look like you're going to show them how it's done. Danced a lot in the last few years, have you?"

"Loads," she said. "Been thinkin' of giving up my day job, really."

"I always thought you missed your calling."

"Well, the choice between professional party dancer and Auror was difficult, but I…"

Charlie wasn't listening, and the easy grin had gone from his face. When Harry followed Tonks' gaze to where Charlie was staring, his gut clenched. Ez and Percy were dancing with their arms around each other, and talking with their faces close, even though the top of her head barely came up to his shoulder. She shook her head, and a strand of dark hair escaped its clasp and fell over her cheek. Percy brushed it away from her face, said something, and they shared a long gaze. Harry thought for a moment that Percy was going to kiss her, and held his breath as if that could stop the horror from happening.

"Nym-"

"It's not what you think," Tonks said quickly.

"I think my brother is dancing a little too close to Mere. And I think she's _letting_ him."

"Take a breath," she said.

"What? This is something I have to take a breath over? What the bloody hell is going on between them that I'd need to take a breath? Are they _dating_?"

"They're friends."

"What kind of friends? Friends like you and me? Are they shagging?"

Harry's jaw dropped open, and Tonks gave Harry a nervous glance. "I'm with Remus now," she bit out.

"And if you weren't?"

Tonks shook her head. "Don't ask me these questions. Talk to Ez-"

"Like hell I will!" Charlie glared at Ez, and she jumped like she'd been shocked. She pulled away from Percy, looked directly at Charlie. She'd known exactly where he was the whole time. Or, maybe she heard him. Charlie did look like he was shouting at her, even if his mouth wasn't open. The students continued to dance around her.

"Charlie, stop it," Tonks said, tugging his arm. "Not in front of the students."

"Bloody bitch!" Charlie roared. He turned on Tonks, red-faced and nostrils flaring. "What do you know?" Half the Hall turned at Charlie's outburst.

And then, Professor McGonagall hurried in with an anxious urgency that drew everyone's attention. She motioned to Charlie and Tonks.

"Something's happened," Harry told them. He nodded to the Headmistress, and Charlie and Tonks headed toward her.

"Quickly," Professor McGonagall said, as she led them out of the Hall.

"Not going to come along?" Esmerelda asked as she walked past Harry, taking her time to follow the others.

"I'm not…should I? It's Order."

She didn't stop, but said, "Thought you would," over her shoulder.

Harry was angry at her on Charlie's behalf. What was she thinking, running around with Percy like that? Even if nothing was going on - and Harry wasn't sure he completely believed Tonks - Ez had to know that Charlie would be at the dance. She had to know he'd see her with his brother – _his_ _brother_, for magic's sake! Harry hurried after her. It was terribly quiet once the Great Hall's door shut behind them. Their footsteps echoed.

"You hurt him, you know," Harry said, catching up to her.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was low and flat. Harry was sure she did.

"Percy's not a bloke you want to get involved with," Harry continued. "He'd sell out his own family for a promotion in the Ministry."

"I know Percy a helluva lot better than you do, Potter. And if that were true, he'd be Minister by now, so watch your mouth."

"But Percy's a berk! The things he said to his parents-"

"There are two sides to that, Harry. I know it's easy for you to romanticize parents, but they're not always the loving, supportive, understanding people we want them to be."

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are great!" Harry insisted. "They're the best bloody parents in the world!"

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Well, they're a lot fucking better than mine, that's for damn sure."

"And Percy-"

"Had his reasons for saying what he said."

"Then you know?"

"Of course. Percy and I are friends."

"Friends," Harry said with a disgusted snort. "You didn't look like friends out there on the dance floor."

"Really?" Esmerelda said, amused. "And how's Miss Granger doing these days? Have any more heart-to-hearts up in the Astronomy Tower?"

"What? How do you know-"

"Relax, Potter. But, if you're going to be best friends with a screamer, you have to know that even chaste kisses will be Broadcast."

"Oh, no."

"Yeah," Esmerelda said. "So forgive me if I don't take your indignation seriously. Charlie is a big boy, and it's time he understood that the sun doesn't rise and set on his male insecurity. He's just going to have to get over himself."

"You wanted him to see you dancing with Percy."

"More like I wanted to dance with Percy, and I didn't care if Charlie saw or not."

"That's bullocks."

"Harry, this is really none of your business. Back off."

They walked together in uneasy silence after that. Harry's mind was full of Charlie and the injustice he'd suffered, and all the things he wanted to say to Esmerelda. So, when they rode the circular stone steps up to Professor McGonagall's office, it took Harry a moment to register that Tonks and Charlie had their wands drawn. When he did, he pulled his out, too, but only then did he see who was sitting in the chair down the length of his wand. Cold adrenaline shot through him, fury raged. Harry couldn't hear anything, see anything other than the traitor Snape.

"_Avad_-"

Esmerelda stunned Harry before he could get the whole curse out, and he toppled like log off to his right. She caught him by his robe sleeve and held him there, at that precarious angle while she demanded, "What the fuck?"

"It's him," Tonks said, eyes narrowed and angry. "It's Snape."

"Really? Snape?" Ez said. "The same Snape who tried to teach Potter Occlumency by force? That Snape? I've got a bone to pick with you!"

"He killed Dumbledore," Tonks told her.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you've got that end covered," Ez said. "But you, Snape, you sadistic son of a bitch, where the hell do you get off pushing into a kid's head without giving him the proper foundation in Meditation and Obfuscation? How many months did you work with him, and never once did you mention Flannigan's Fist?"

"Mere, not now," Charlie growled.

"Well, if this one," she said, and jangled Harry by his sleeve, "has anything to say about it, there won't be a later, and I've got some things to say to this Snape before the rest of you get your talons in him!"

"But…he _killed_ Dumbledore!" Tonks insisted.

"Who are you?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes at Esmerelda as he looked down his hooked nose at her. His face was just as pale as Harry remembered, and his hair as long and black and greasy as ever. His robes were rough, and he looked as if he hadn't had a meal or a sound night of sleep in a long, long time. Though, he usually looked like that.

"I'm the new you," Esmerelda told him. "What? You didn't think you were irreplaceable, did you? I'm not as universally despised as you seemed to have been, but I'm working on it…what are you...oh, no you don't!"

Snape whipped back in the chair, eyes screwed shut and grimacing. She'd Pushed him out of her head. Esmerelda became Harry's favorite teacher of all time.

"Another example of Flannigan's Fist, Potter."

"Bloody bitch," Snape wheezed.

"We've just met and already with the pet names, eh?" Ez said demurely.

"Enough!" Harry hadn't realized that Moody was even in the room. The ex-Auror had been by the door, and limped around Harry and Esmerelda, his magic eye whirling. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Azkaban?" Professor McGonagall said.

"Azkaban's a bloody hotel, with the way the Death Eaters come and go," Charlie said.

"We can't keep him caged." Lupin. He stood near the fireplace, looking worse for wear. Who else was in the room?

"I don't see why not!" Tonks snapped. "He's a murderer."

"Harry had the right idea of it," Moody grumbled.

"Mere," Charlie said in frustration. He thrust his chin at Harry. "Let him go."

"Mr. Potter shouldn't even be here," McGonagall said, fretting. "He's not Order. And, he's a student."

Esmerelda pulled Harry back on to his feet, and pulled his wand from his hand before she unfroze him. The instant he had his bearings, Harry called his wand, and it shot from her hand to his.

Snape met Harry's level gaze. "Hello, Potter." He sneered when he said it.

Anger and fury and hatred whirled inside Harry; his head throbbed with it, his hands trembled. Three months disappeared, and suddenly it was as if Dumbledore had just been killed and his body dropped over the side of the wall. How could Snape sit there so calm? Had he no conscience? Had he no fear?

"You're a traitor!" Harry stepped to him. "You betrayed us all." Snape seemed bored with Harry's accusations, and it only flamed Harry's rage. "You think maybe there's no proof? That no one knows for certain that you murdered Dumbledore? I was there! I saw you use the Killing Curse!"

Snape's eyes narrowed with disbelief.

And then a red-hot knife sliced into Harry's forehead, and he cried out as he fell.

* * *

Horrible, hideous laugher echoed through his head as he once again became aware of his surroundings. Stone vaulted ceiling. Thick carpet. A terrible, pulsing pain in his skull that made his stomach sick.

"There you are." Lupin's gentle voice. "He's coming round. Here. Eat this." A thin square of chocolate was pressed into his hand.

Harry blinked up at the worried faces that surrounded him. He was lying on the Headmistress' Office floor. He had no idea how long he'd been out.

"Give the bloke some air," Tonks said, and she reached down to pull Harry up by his shoulders. "It was the scar, then?"

"Yeah," Harry said. He had to close his eyes to keep from retching. And then he realized that no one had their wands drawn any longer. He blinked. Everyone was still looking at him. "Where's Snape?"

"Moody's taken him to Headquarters until Mere can give him a once over," Charlie explained.

Esmerelda was the one person in the room not focused on him. She sat next to the fireplace in one of McGonagall's straight-back chairs, face in her hands. Harry worried she was crying.

"Is she all right?" he whispered.

Charlie nodded, but glanced anxiously at her.

Lupin encouraged Harry to eat the chocolate, and Harry took a small bite to appease him. "Tell us what you saw."

"Uh…it was Voldemort. He likes it when I'm angry. It excites him."

"Oh, dear," Professor McGonagall said, and then, "Did you see him?"

"Er…no." Harry had to concentrate. "Wormtail and Malfoy. And there was a brazier and a basin of water."

"It's called a _khuulae_." Esmerelda's voice was unnaturally soft and thin. "It's the darkest of dark magic. Death magic. Please, somebody tell me that You-Know-Who isn't also a Necromancer."

"No, not that we know of," Charlie assured.

"Yes, well, then I guess we know who he's visiting with tonight," Esmerelda said without looking up.

Harry caught the startled look on Charlie's face. "Mere-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Do you remember the smell, Potter?"

Yes, there had been a smell. It had attacked his nose and throat. "Astringent?"

"Witch hazel," Ez said. "Yeah. He's making Infiri. That's a smell you need to remember."

"I do," he told her. Infiri. The living dead. Harry remembered all too vividly the feel of that clammy skin clutching at his ankles, and the acrid sent that lingered even after they'd left the cave. They – him and Dumbledore.

"Mere, if he's in Romania-"

"I know what it means, Charlie," she said wearily. "But there's nothing we can do from here. And we can't ask Magda and Tibor, they've risked too much all ready."

"We should be there-"

"But we're not," she snapped. Then she pressed the palm of her hand to her head. "Fuck, I've got a headache." She was far too pale for her complexion, and her face was heavy with pain. She stood as well. "I need a stiff drink. You coming, Potter?"

To get a drink? She was mad.

And Professor McGonagall seemed to think so, as well. "Certainly, you aren't suggesting-"

"I can't take another hit like this tonight," Ez said, one hand running through her dark hair, the other on her hip. "It caught me off guard, and You-Know-Who's one powerful son of a bitch. If he decides to Read Harry again tonight, I won't be able to protect him."

"We've never connected twice in the same night before," Harry told her.

"You've never Pushed him out before, either," Ez told him. "Well, OK, I Pushed, but he's bound to be curious. He's going to want to know why his favorite boy is now suddenly able to defend himself. And when he comes knocking I want you stinking drunk. You can't get out, and he can't get in."

"Surely, there's some other way," McGonagall said.

"Unless you're an Occlumens," Esmerelda suggested. "Or, you could try Snape. He's pretty good, eh?"

"What?" Tonks looked just as horrified as Harry felt. "He's a Death Eater!"

"Oh, come on. He's no Death Eater."

"He killed Dumbledore!" Harry shouted.

"Yeah, well," said Esmerelda, "I never said he was a great guy. But he is a fair Occlumens."

"I will not have that traitor in my head!"

"Fine, then," Ez said, relieved that they'd finally arrived at the obvious. "Let's find some Firewhiskey. Percy has a stash somewhere, I'm sure."

"Professor Wizmere." McGonagall's voice was now the epitome of authority. "It is improper for a professor at this school to get drunk with a student of the opposite sex."

Ez gave Harry a bemused grin. "She's worried I'll expose you to impropriety." McGonagall would surely have a stroke if she knew what Ez had shown him in their lessons.

"I'll chaperone," Tonks offered.

"I will, too," Charlie said, watching Esmerelda a little too closely.

"No!" both Ez and Tonks shouted simultaneously.

"But-but," McGonagall sputtered. "This is madness! Students and professors cannot drink together! What would Dumbledore say?"

"I think this is what Dumbledore would've called 'taking one for the team,'" Lupin said with a smile.

"Come on, Harry," Esmerelda said. "If we debate any longer my head's going to split open."

"Mine, as well," he said as he followed her out.

* * *

Percy kept his Firewiskey and purple Goblin Schnapps in the locked Potions ingredient closet, between the dried haddock scales and grub puss. He handed the bottles over, along with a couple of vials of Hangover Cure.

"Oh, you remembered," Esmerelda said with a thankful smile.

"Not likely I would forget, is it?" Percy said lightly.

"You're the best, Charlie." Her eyes went wide as she realized what she'd said. Percy's face dropped. "I meant Percy. Percy."

"Yeah," he said. "I remember that, too."

"I'm sorry," Ez said. "It's just, he's Broadcasting. He knows in ten minutes I won't be able to hear him, so he's getting it all in now."

"About seeing us tonight?" Percy asked. "I'm surprised he hasn't threatened to duel me."

"Oh, he has," Esmerelda told him. "He's an ape."

Percy laughed. "Drink up, then."

She lifted the bottles. "Cheers!"

They went back to the Defense classroom where the Ez broke into the drink and downed an entire glass before pouring Harry one.

Tonks busied herself with pushing desks and chairs out of the way. "Don't follow her example, Harry. Sip it. You don't want to be sick on that stuff. As much as it burns going down, it feels like raw glass coming back up."

Harry swirled the amber liquid in his glass. It smelled strongly of alcohol and cinnamon. He took a sip, and his mouth burned like he'd bitten into a hundred hot peppers at once. Harry spewed the Firewhiskey, and coughed. His mouth continued to burn. Both witches laughed to themselves.

"Yeah, that first taste is rough," Esmerelda said. She poured herself another glass, and downed it again. Then she refilled Harry's. "The thing is, Goblin Schnapps is said to taste like Goblin ass – not that I've had the pleasure - but, once you've had a couple of these, it tastes like…"

"Ambrosia," Tonks supplied for her.

"Yeah, something like, eh?" Esmerelda smiled.

"Oi, Ez. Ready for the mat."

Esmerelda waved her wand, and the thick green mat appeared. Tonks added some plush pillows and a couple of fuzzy, fluorescent striped blankets, and then she jumped right in. Ez, though, poured herself another glass.

"Still yelling, is he?" Tonks asked.

"The bastard won't shut up. He's…" She stared down at her glass. "What's he talking about?" Then she turned and looked at Tonks. Her eyes were wide, her brows knit. "Nym…what didn't you tell me?"

"Eh?"

"He think's you told me something. Something that would make me use Percy to get back at him." Esmerelda watched her friend's mouth drop open. "Nym? What did he – you slept with Charlie!"

"Bloody hell," Tonks gasped.

Harry held his breath, braced for the storm, but Esmerelda didn't explode. In fact, she looked as if she crumbled a little. She poured herself another drink, and downed it in one go. "When did you sleep with him? Why?" She stared at the glass.

"Ez, it's not…it's not like that."

"Then what's it like?" Esmerelda wasn't looking at her. She wasn't really looking at anything.

"Is he still screaming?" Tonks asked.

"No. I'm sufficiently drunk." She filled her glass again.

Tonks took it out of her hand before the rim reached her lips. "Give it a rest, then." The two witches exchanged a long gaze before Esmerelda shook her head and dropped her eyes.

"I'm too far gone," she said. "I can't Read you."

"We didn't do it to hurt you," Tonks said quietly. "Just like you didn't couple up with Percy to hurt Charlie. He came to my apartment after you'd left, lost and grieving. It was like you'd died."

"Your apartment?" Ez stood straighter. "The image Charlie showed me was in the cottage in Romania. You went to see him in Romania."

Tonks' eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Oh. Bloody hell." She took a step back.

"It was a thing, then. How long did it last?"

"It wasn't a thing," Tonks insisted. "It was just those two times."

"But you went to see him. It was a thing."

"I missed him. He's my best mate. I didn't go to sleep with him. It just happened."

"You love him."

"Not that way."

Esmerelda sighed. "I know. Fuck. I knew he would move on after me, I just didn't…think it would hurt like this. I left him, right?"

"No, Ez, he hasn't moved on. He loves you."

"He loves you, too."

"Not that way."

Ez closed her eyes. "I know."

Harry was horrified to see a tear slip down Tonks' heart-shaped face and dangle from her chin. Was this going to turn into a crying party? Harry would never understand witches. Why weren't they yelling or throwing hexes?

"Here," Esmerelda said, pushing her whiskey to her friend. "Have one."

Tonks shook her head. "Not tonight."

Esmerelda glanced over at Harry and his still-full glass. "You, drink."

He did manage to choke down his first whiskey, though he was sweating profusely by the time he reached the bottom of the glass. The second went down easier. Tonks and Ez applauded and cheered him on. And once he polished off his third, he was ready to try the Schnapps.

When he started to giggle to himself, Tonks led him over to the mat. He collapsed on a green leopard print pillow. It felt so bloody good to be off his feet. His body was like jelly, and it was far easier to drape himself over the pillows than it was to sit up. Actually, it felt quite good.

"My headache's gone," he said.

"Wait 'till morning," Tonks said with a smirk. Tonks was so funny. Harry giggled again.

"Oh, crap. He's a happy drunk," Ez groaned.

"Ez, Ez, Ez, Ez," Harry chanted.

"So are you," Tonks told her.

Ez laughed. "Yeah, I forgot. It's been a while." She dropped down next to Harry, and hugged a blue pillow under her chin.

"You've forgiven me, have you?" Tonks cautiously asked.

Ez sighed. "There's nothing to forgive. I left him. He's not mine."

"No," Tonks agreed. "You were seeing Percy."

Ez popped her head up. It looked like she was doing the math. "Both times?"

Tonks nodded. "You were with Percy, so I thought…I mean, at the time it didn't look like you and Charlie would ever get back together."

"We won't," Ez said.

"Oh, but surely now-"

"No. Not now. Not ever." She rolled on to her back.

Tonks looked lost. "But – but you still love him!"

"Oh, yes, I love him, so fuck all the rest of it? Nym, I left Romania for a reason."

"I've never quite understood what that was," Tonks said.

"That's because I never told you," Ez said flatly. "I'm drunk, not an idiot, and it's none of your business."

"You're the most sober drunk person I've ever known." This bit of wisdom from Tonks left Harry giggling again.

"I do miss him, though," Ez said. "And the sex."

"How did Percy measure up?" Tonks casually asked.

"Well, it's only been the two of them, so I'd have to say…he fell short."

"Oh." Tonks grinned. "Poor Percy."

Ez shrugged. "He did all right. But it wasn't the same. It took a long time for me to figure out why."

"And? What did you finally decide?" Tonks asked.

"Oh, you know." Ez sighed. "He just wasn't Charlie."

"Charlie loves you like his next breath. He was devastated when you left."

"I know. I was devastated when I left, if you'll recall."

"He thinks you coming back now is some sort of sign, like the fates have given you two a second chance."

"Yeah. He's a romantic."

"He loves you, you love him, and you're not even going to give it a go?"

With a moan, Ez draped her arm over her eyes. "He hasn't changed."

"He has!"

"He thinks that I would use Percy in an attempt to punish him for sleeping with you. Charlie has most certainly not changed, and neither has his opinion of me."

"He loves you-"

"He thinks I'm a bitch."

Tonks grinned at her. "Well, you are."

"Here, here!" Harry agreed. "Ez, Ez, Ez, Ez."

Ez peeked at him from under her arm. "Are you still drinking?"

Harry lifted his glass upside down and gave a pout. "All gone."

"Good boy," Ez said.

"Just the two of them? Really? No one else snuck in?"

"There's something about Weasleys," Ez admitted.

"What about giving it another go for the sex?" Tonks negotiated.

"Mmm," Ez practically purred. "Did he do that thing with his thumb?"

"Shit, I loved that."

"Me, too," Ez said, smiling. "He's got amazing hands, that wizard."

"I've got amazing hands, too," Harry thought. And then, when he looked up and both witches were staring at him, he realized he'd said it out loud.

"You got her off, eh?" Ez asked. "Good for you."

"Got who off?" Tonks asked.

His mind was like mush, and he couldn't think of a good way to answer that question. These were professors, not friends, though in his current fluffy state, it was difficult to see that distinction. They weren't behaving very professor-like, and Harry was feeling very friendly.

"He's not talking about Ginny Weasley, is he?" Tonks asked. "Isn't she dating Ernie Macmillian now?"

Ginny and Ernie. Everyone knew about them. Ernie was Head Boy, prince of the whole bloody school, and Ginny was the prettiest girl to ever walk the halls. They were the perfect couple. That was why she wouldn't break up with Ernie, even though Harry had gotten her off at the Autumnal Equinox Dance. That was why she wanted to sleep with –

"Oh, bloody hell!" Harry sat up abruptly, and his stomach tried to come out his mouth. He choked it back.

"What? What is it?" Tonks already had her wand out. "Is it your scar?"

How could he have forgotten? Tonight was supposed to be the night, if it hadn't already happened that morning. He held his stomach; it threatened to come up again. He had to get to her. He had to stop her.

Harry lurched forward on to his knees, and then on to his feet. He fell over the first time, and went slower the second.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Tonks asked, and then turned to Ez. "What the bloody hell is wrong with him?"

"I can't Read him," was all Ez said.

"I've got to find Ginny."

"What's wrong with Ginny?" Tonks grabbed Harry by his shoulder and forced him to look at her. Her face was all out of focus. "Harry what is it? Look at me. Is it your scar?"

How did he make her understand without betraying Ginny's trust? And how the bloody hell was he going to find Ginny when he couldn't even walk straight. His legs and arms were so tired. He felt as if he were made of lead.

"I've only just remembered," Harry said. "I've got to find Ginny."

"Is she hurt?"

"No." And then he wondered if Ernie would be as thoughtless as he'd been. "I hope not."

"We can find her in the morning," Tonks assured.

"It'll be too late. I've got to find her now," Harry insisted.

"Look, I'm sure she's at the dance," Tonks said. "I'll just pop down and see-"

"I've got to go," Harry told her. "It's got to be me."

"He's a belligerent drunk," Ez commented, her arm still draped over her face.

"All right, Harry, easy, now. You can't go anywhere while you're like this. The other students will know-"

"I don't bloody care who knows! Ginny's going to sleep with Ernie tonight, unless I stop her!"

That got Tonks' attention. "Oh. Well, then. I reckon we should try to find her."

"Ginny's dating Ernie, don't forget," Ez said from her back on the mat. "What are you going to say when you find her?"

"Surely there's some sort of school rule against student relations," Tonks said, though she looked at Harry for support. "She is underage."

"And how old were you when you first bagged Charlie?" Ez reminded. "Let her be. If she wants this guy, she'll have him, no matter what you do."

"No," Harry said. He refused to accept that. He met Tonks' eyes. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"You love her?" Tonks asked.

"With everything I am."

"Then I'll help."

"Sucker," Ez accused.

The door burst open then, and Charlie blew in. He quickly took in the situation and then said in no uncertain terms, "Mere, we need to talk."

She didn't even flinch. "You know I can't Read you."

"That's why we need to talk."

"I'm not talking about your brother. That's none of your business."

"Marry me."

That was the last thing Harry remembered from that night.


	14. Chapter 13 The Ginny Dilemma

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 13 – The Ginny Dilemma

Morning was bright and painful. His head throbbed. His body felt like he'd been hit by a train, and his mouth tasted like he'd been sucking on socks. Had he? He couldn't imagine that he had, but then, he couldn't remember much about the night before. How had he ended up in his dorm?

Harry was sprawled across the bed, one leg hanging over the side. His stomach quivered with nausea. Even the slightest movement made everything worse. He held his breath for a moment, but decided, in the end, breathing would be necessary. With a moan, he tried to roll on to his side, but only managed to throw an arm over his middle.

"You awake, then? It's nearly time for Double Defense." Ron's voice boomed. "I've brought you some toast."

Harry groaned and rolled away from the food.

"Right, then. I'm supposed to give you this." A vial appeared in front of Harry. Hangover Elixir.

"Oh, merciful Merlin." Harry grabbed it, downed it, and then gagged. It tasted worse than the Firewhiskey. He coughed, and rubbed his tongue on his sleeve.

"Here." Ron handed Harry the toast, which didn't seem quite so revolting as it had. Then, he sat down beside Harry. "How much of last night do you remember?"

"Why? Did I play the fool?"

"Charlie's gone."

Harry swallowed. Ron was serious; his face was long and concerned.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"His hut's closed up, and Grubby-Plank is slated to take his classes through next week. The calendar only goes a week ahead at this point, so we don't know if he's expected back after that. McGonagall isn't talking. She just said he was called away."

"So, you don't think it's Order, then?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Ron said. "It can't be a coincidence that Snape turned up last night and now Charlie's-"

"Yeah. That's probably it. Charlie's gone to deal with the traitor. Did he take Ez? He wanted her to Read him." Harry pressed his hand to his forehead.

"Scar?"

"No. Just waiting for the Elixir to work its magic."

"But Ez isn't gone," Ron said. "She was at breakfast. And looking a might better than you…though, Hermione and Ginny agreed that she seemed a bit peaked."

"Ginny!" How could he have forgotten? "She was at breakfast?"

"Oh, yeah. I was surprised, though. Last night at the dance she ate something off, and Ernie brought her back to Gryffindor Tower early."

"Ernie!"

"Well, yeah. He's her boyfriend. He'd be a sorry sod not to walk her back when she's not feeling right."

"Bloody hell!" Harry jumped up. "How early?"

"What's wrong with you? Do you know why Charlie left? He's not going after Voldemort, is he? Did he get anything out of Snape? Did you see him before he left?"

"No…yes…I don't know. I think he was there. He asked Ez to marry him."

"_What?_"

"Where's Ginny now?" Not that Harry knew what he'd say to her. What could he say beyond, "Shag anyone lately?"

"Charlie asked her to _marry_ him? Is he off his nut? That witch is mental! Mum's going to have kittens over this, she is. It's bad enough having Flem in the family, but now that bloody loony bird as well!"

"What about Ginny? How did she seem when you saw her?" Did witches who'd just slept with their Head Boy boyfriends look different than they usually did? Was it possible to look shagged?

"Ginny?" Ron looked outraged. "What about Charlie!"

"I don't care about Charlie!" Harry practically shouted. "Maybe he's off making wedding arrangements! Picking out bloody flowers, or nonsense!"

"She said yes, then?"

"Where's Ginny now?"

"Dunno. Probably in class."

"Right," Harry said. Well, that, at least made sense. He'd find her after class. And what? Question her? Search her for signs of shagging? And what if he found them?

"So," Ron said, "you don't know why Charlie left, then?"

"No," Harry told him. And with the Ginny dilemma on his mind, he didn't much care.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room had long been one of Harry's most favorite places in the world. It was there that he learned about wizard's chess, there he spent his first Christmas without the Dursleys, there he first kissed Ginny Weasley. In seven years the room hadn't changed at all beyond the faces of the students scattered about, pouring over books and playing the odd game of Exploding Snaps.

He missed Fred and George and their attempts to test the newest products for the Weasley Weazes joke line. He missed Oliver Wood with his kind assertiveness, and Katie Bell's practical authority - Merlin, he missed Quidditch! He even missed Lee Johnson, not because they were ever really friends, but because Lee was there in the common room at a time when things were easier. And yes, things were easier when Hogwarts had been taken over by a fascist in pink, and strange dreams were leading him deeper and deeper into the Department of Mysteries, and they were running the DA in secret. Those things he could fight, he could control. Ginny, he could not.

She'd preoccupied his thoughts all day. Harry had little to no memory of Double Defense or anything else that had come between waking up with his brain trying to burst out of his skull that morning, until now when he found himself on the couch by the fire staring at the roll of parchment that hadn't managed to turn itself into a Potions essay in the last two hours. There had been several long hours of searching the castle for Ginny, but he hadn't found her; not in the Great Hall at supper, not in the library, not even in the room behind the painting he had to knock five times to open. Was she with Ernie? Again?

Hermione giggled, and then slapped Ron's hand playfully away. "Stop that. You're getting ink all over."

Sure enough, both of them had fingers splattered black. Ron grinned at her as he ran the inky side of his finger against hers. "Right now, Hermione. What are you thinking right now?"

Her smile faded, and she said quietly, "You know what I'm thinking." They held each other's gaze. Harry rolled his eyes and groaned loud enough to remind them they weren't alone.

The first years by the window glanced over at him in that same way everyone who believed everything the_ Prophet_ ever wrote about him did - with wary curiosity.

"How is your essay, then?" Hermione asked. "Give it here and I'll look over it." She held out her hand expectantly to Harry, and he gave her the blank parchment. "Well, _Poisons in Potions_ is a good title, since that's the assignment, but Harry, is that really all you've managed to write tonight?"

"It's too loud in here."

"You've got five essays, Harry, all of which are due or past due. You've got three weeks worth of homework, and you know more will come next week. And then, there's all the make-up work from the classes you've missed so far this year. Harry, when are you going to get it all done?"

He glared at the fire. He didn't care about school work. "You're not my keeper," he grumbled.

"I'm worried about you."

"Well, don't. It's just school." It's not like he was going to be there long enough to take his N.E.W.T.s. And even if he was, he certainly wouldn't need them to find a job. He had Horcruxes to destroy, and an evil wizard to kill.

"And when are we going to find the Horcruxes?" he asked, finding new energy in his indignity. "You were the one who said we needed the library here to find them. _'We'll use Hogwarts as our base of operations_, you said! _'We'll come up with a plan,'_ you said!"

"We will!" she insisted.

"When? Between classes and the DA, and dances, and you two having sex all the time? It's a wonder that you have time to eat, let alone finding a way to defeat Voldemort!"

Several of the students by the window gasped. Harry hadn't meant for his voice to carry that far. He sank lower in his chair.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped. Ron was red with anger.

"Admit it," Harry whispered to Hermione, "Voldemort has dropped down to the bottom of your priorities, just below Ancient Runes and getting off!"

"Oi, now!" Ron protested. "You can't talk to her like that!"

"I think I just did!"

"Harry, of course you're still our first priority," Hermione argued. "It's just, well, there's so much going on-"

"Yeah. I can see what's going on," he snapped and jumped up from the chair.

"No, Ron, let him go. We'll talk to him once he's calmed down a bit."

Harry stormed up the dorm steps determined not to calm down. He was angry, and tired, and he had a ball of energy in his belly that he didn't understand, and couldn't get rid of. And where the hell was Ginny? She had no right to hide from him when he'd done exactly as she'd asked at the dance. He still didn't really understand how that had happened.

He meant to go up to his dorm room and try to get some Herbology reading done, but Harry decided he was a fool to think he'd be able to read. He was aching for a fight. The door to the Head Girl's stair was there, and he took it with no forethought or intention beyond climbing the stairs and getting away from homework. He wasn't specifically thinking of Ginny, though she'd been on his mind all day, and he wasn't really looking to fight with her in particular, but when he saw her sitting calmly on her bed in Hermione's room he began to shout.

"Hiding from me, are you? Been shagging your bloody boyfriend? You did it, didn't you? Last night, after the dance, like you said you would?"

"What are you talking about?" She sat there all innocent and confused. "What is wrong with you?"

If she were truly innocent, then why had she spent the day avoiding him? Harry would not be deterred. He was angry, damn it! "I've been looking for you all day! I thought, after what happened last night-"

"What?" she demanded, jumping up from her bed. "You thought what?"

"I thought it meant something!"

This seemed to surprise her. "Of course it meant something."

"What? What did it mean?" There was a plea in his voice that he didn't mean to put there.

"I-I don't…"

"Break it off with Ernie."

"I can't," she said. It was almost a whisper.

Harry stepped to her, and her back went stiff. "Ginny, I love you-"

"Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"You can't say it. No out loud."

"But I can now," Harry said quietly, and he steeped even closer. He gently cupped her cheek. "Ginny, I-"

"I said no!" She jerked away from him.

He hadn't expected that. "Er…" Was she upset at him? Shouldn't it be the other way around?

She licked her dark pink lips, and Harry realized she was staring at his mouth. Did she want him to kiss her? Was that an invitation? When he leaned in she stopped him with a hand to his chest. "No kissing." Her breath hot on his lips, she was so close. He closed his eyes.

"Please," he whispered.

"No," she whispered back.

But she didn't move away from him. Her mouth couldn't have been more than a few inches away; they were leaning into each other. Surely she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted her. Was she punishing him for what he did to her last night? Or that night on the stairs? Was she punishing herself?

"No kissing. No snogging," she told him.

She was right, of course. She did have a boyfriend. They shouldn't even be standing this close together. But, after last night – after everything they'd been through together, everything they shared in the years that he'd known her – it has hard for Harry to accept that she belonged to someone else. No one could possibly love her like he did. It was Ernie who was wrong, not him.

"Break it off with Ernie," Harry said again. "Be mine."

Her hands slipped under the waist of his jumper and she flicked the button of his trousers open. "What?" Harry asked. "What are you doing?"

"No kissing, no snogging, no touching above the belt," she told him.

"Ginny-"

"No talking."

She unzipped his fly, and his trousers dropped around his ankles. His semi wasn't terribly impressive, only because he was so dumbfounded. Was she going to break it off with Ernie after all, then? She began on her own trousers, never once meeting his eyes. This wasn't a good idea, Harry knew, but he couldn't think to stop it. And truth be told, he didn't want to.

Pale, freckled, shapely legs and light blue knickers. He loved the way she looked in them. She toed off her socks. Harry found it difficult to catch his breath. When she stepped back to him, her eyes were on his throat. He wanted kiss her. It seemed wrong not to.

Her hands went to his waist, and she tugged his hips until their lower bodies were pressed together. His arms automatically went around her, and he lowered his head to her shoulder. His lips brushed the side of her neck.

"No kissing," she said again, adamant.

"No kissing," he quietly agreed.

She smoothed her fingers into the back of his pants and cupped his bum, and they rocked together, grinded together. He tried to run his hands up her sides so he could touch her breasts, but she went stiff in his arms.

"No," she said.

"I won't kiss them," he promised.

"Nothing above the waist."

He pulled back a little, wanting to gauge her expression. She looked dead serious. "Honestly?"

"No talking," she repeated, and squeezed him hard again. He felt her nails dug into his flesh. It was a sweet pain, and he thrust against her. His hands went to her bum – that seemed a safe enough place to touch her considering what she was doing to his. They pulled each other closer and together they moaned at the sensation.

They moved together for a few moments, and he tried to memorize the way her chest felt pressed hard against his through the layers of their school uniform. Her legs parted, and one hooked over his thigh. He pulled her a little higher on himself, push his erection underneath her. She leaned down against the head of him, and he whimpered in pleasure. His hips thrust up, pressing through fabric to the hot wet of her. He needed more purchase, and he pulled her up on to his pelvis and began walking her to the wall.

"No," she said. "The bed."

"Bed." He struggled to carry her there. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Were they going to have sex, without kissing? Without taking off their jumpers? Is that really what she wanted?

He lowered her down on the edge of her mattress, and she crawled back, spread her bent legs for him. There were wisps of ginger hair peeking out from her knickers. He reached down and smoothed his hand over her crotch. When he cupped her, she sucked in a breath. She watched him through her through half-lidded eyes. When she didn't object he felt a little bolder, he slipped two fingers under the fabric. She liked it when he teased her hair down there, and he liked hearing that tiny hitch in her breath.

He crawled on the bed, and stretched out beside her while he combed over her. She gazed at him, licked her lips. Why wouldn't she let him kiss her? Maybe if he just leaned in slowly she'd change her mind. He was touching her lady bits, after all. His finger found where she parted, and he pressed into the heat. She closed her eyes, reached down and placed his fingers exactly where she wanted them. He was rewarded with a little gasp.

Then, she shoved his hand away, and he looked down at his wet fingers wondering what he'd done wrong. "Ginny-"

"No talking," she said.

"But-"

"No!"

She lifted her hips and slid her knickers down her thighs, and then kicked them to the floor. Harry couldn't help but stare. In all the times he'd been with Ginny, he'd never really looked at her completely bare down there.

"What?" she asked, tension in her voice.

"It's like…a little mustache. Hermione's isn't like-" He stopped himself when her eyes went wide.

"You've seen Hermione? Did you shag her, too?"

"No, no! Charlie and I walked in on her and Ron at the Burrow! It was an accident, I swear!" He didn't mention what he'd witnessed the night he'd had her against the stairwell wall.

Ginny searched his face, and then shook her head. "No talking."

Harry got up on his knees and pushed his underwear down, too. He watched her face for any signs of hesitancy until she grabbed him roughly and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. His head dropped back. There was nothing in the world that felt as good as Ginny's hand on his cock.

When he looked back down at her there, on her back and with her eyes following the careful strokes she was measuring on him, he knew that this time would have to be different. This time he would take Ron's advice and finish her first. He wanted it to be good for her. It was important that she like it. And, even more than that, she deserved to.

With his pants still bunched at his knees, Harry crawled between her thighs. She was all pink and slick, like a strawberry pastie. What it would be like to taste her there? She smelled so smoky and sexy. It was an intimidating thought. Ron had said just kissing them there was enough to get them off. Harry reckoned it was probably a little more complicated than that, but Ginny hadn't been shy about guiding him to the exact right spot. Maybe he could kiss her _and_ use his fingers to push inside her. He wondered if anyone had ever thought of that before.

He swallowed, and then bent down for his first taste. Thumbs opening each side of her, Harry inhaled deeply and then…

"What are you doing?" Ginny grabbed him by the hair and held his face up from her body. "No kissing."

"Well, it's not really kissing, is it? It's more licking-"

"I said no."

He couldn't help but look back down at that part of her he was denied. "I want to make this good for you," Harry told her. "Let me get you off first."

"No kissing," she insisted.

"Right." He sat back, and she let him go. For a moment he considered her. She hadn't had a problem with his hands. He could still give her a good go before he… Was she even going to let him shag her? There was a strong possibility she wouldn't if she wouldn't even let him kiss her.

"Ginny, what are we doing here?"

"No talking," she said, and then reached up to grab the back of his neck. She pulled him down on top of her. His cock slipped along her wet, and it left them both panting.

Was this what she wanted? Just the shag? He braced himself with a hand on either side of her head, and looked down into her eyes. Why couldn't he talk to her? Why didn't she want him to tell her he loved her? She had wanted him to say it when they were at the Burrow. Did she want this now at all?

She looked away first, and pushed up on his shoulders. "Get off me," she ordered. Harry wasn't at all surprised. Maybe he'd already ruined things between them. Maybe that night on the stair would be their only chance, and he'd thrown it away.

"I'm sorry-"

She pushed him to the side, and with his legs tangled in his pants he flopped awkwardly on to his back. His head managed to land on her pillow, his wrist slammed into the headboard. And before he knew what was happening she was on him, straddling his waist.

"I'm on top," she told him.

"What ever you want," he told her. "Be my girlfriend."

"Shut up."

She grabbed him and gave him a few good strokes before teasing the head with her thumb. And then, she rose up on her knees and positioned him against her. This was it. It was really going to happen. And she wanted it. How else was he supposed to interpret '_I'm on top_'?

She jammed him right up inside her wet and heat, and Harry winced as she adjusted the angle. And then, all at once, she opened like a flower, and sank down over him. Harry couldn't help but thrust up into the pleasure. A growl escaped his throat. He forced himself still again, and waited as she wiggled over him and found a more comfortable position.

"I'm I hurting you?"

She ignored him. Eyes closed, and bottom lip trapped between her teeth, Ginny slowly began to rock, sliding up and then down…in and then out. He ran his hands over her thighs, up to her waist, and then squeezed her bum as she slowly rode him. It was hard to know if she liked it as much as he did, but he thought not; her face was screwed up in a grimace.

"We can stop if it's not-"

"Shut up! Bloody hell, you talk a lot!"

He closed his mouth, and watched her work, occasionally distracted by the mind-blowing sex they were having. It was amazing, really; he and Ginny were having sex. She had a boyfriend, and Ron would kill him if he knew, but they were doing it in her bed in the Head Girl's room, and it was bloody brilliant. He followed her rhythm; let her move how she wanted to. He thought he should do more, to help in some way beyond thrusting. But he was afraid to touch her too much, and he certainly didn't want to distract her from what she was doing. Sweat glistened on her face. Her thighs trembled from exertion. He wanted to kiss her.

And then she found her stride. He knew the instant that she did; her face cleared, her mouth opened, and she reached down to where they were joined and began to touch herself. It was the hottest thing Harry had ever see in his life; her sliding up and down on his wet cock, and her hand working herself, her finger flying back and forth across that one special point on her body. He felt her clench, felt her reaching for release, and he gripped her thighs, wanting so badly to give it to her. Shouldn't he be touching her? Getting her off? He didn't want to interrupt; the expression on her face was very intent. And really, she was so bloody sexy.

She came with a series of strangled grunts, and then she collapsed forward on him. Her head lay on his chest. He held her as her body gripped him, and she rode the waves of pleasure. He stroked her hair, snuck in a kiss to the top of her head.

"Can you finish?" she asked him, her cheek still on his jumper.

"When you're ready."

"Can I stay on top?"

"Anything you want."

She pushed up, a hand on the center of his chest, and looked him in the eye. "I want this to stay a secret," she said.

"You don't want Ernie to know."

"I don't want anyone to know," she corrected.

"Then you're going to keep dating Ernie?"

She looked down at her hand. "Finish," she said quietly.

He ran his hands up her thighs again, up over her hips. He brushed at the strip of thick, ginger hair between her legs, and then up over her tight, flat belly. She shivered, and he began to thrust up in small, easy strokes. She lifted a little, and leaned forward, and they both groaned as her body caught around his, still in its ebb.

She felt so good, so tight and hot. The pressure was amazing, her body was amazing. He wished he could see more of it.

"Can…" Did he dare risk irritating her now? "Can I see them?" It was a mistake to ask, and still he did, as he moved in and out of her. "I won't touch them, if you don't want me to."

She touched her own breasts suggestively through her jumper, and Harry whimpered. He could only make out the general shape, and then imagined the full roundness he knew was hidden underneath. His thrust became more erratic, and he felt her clench tight around him.

"Oh, Merlin…"

"No talking."

"Why?" he asked through clenched teeth. Sweat broke out on his own brow. "Why can't I – oh, Merlin…"

She whipped her jumper up and threw it off the bed. "Now will you shut up?"

"Take off your shirt."

She glared at him, and clenched. Harry closed his eyes to hold back a little more. When he blinked again, she was unbuttoning her shirt, one leisurely button at a time, from the bottom up. Harry whimpered. No, _this_ was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He thrust up and up and up, and finally she peeled away the sides of her shirt. Her bra was blue. It matched her knickers.

She began to move with him, just a little rock of her pelvis in time with his strokes. She braced herself against his chest with one hand, and he watched her other run over her belly, and then up over rib. She ran a finger under her breast, and then along the top of the cup. Harry's mouth went dry, he couldn't swallow.

Her breasts jiggled as they moved together, and that movement mesmerized him, drew him closer and closer to the crest.

"Er…Harry?" Suddenly her voice was uncertain.

"No," he whispered. Please don't make him stop. "No talking."

"Are you close?"

"Yesssss…"

"Harry, you need to pull out."

"What?" He could barely hear her above his labored breathing and the blood rushing through his veins.

"I'm not taking the Potion."

Harry came in an explosion of happiness and pleasure.

"Oh, sweet magic!" It was Hermione's cry that jerked him out of his euphoria. He grabbed Ginny's bum to keep her in place as she twisted on his lap to see Hermione in the door.

* * *

"Harry!"

He rushed past Hermione and down the Head Girl stairs. Why had she waited for him outside the door? Wasn't she in the least bit unnerved with seeing him naked from the waist down and shagging Ginny? Harry certainly was.

"Harry, please!" She caught up with him enough to tug his sleeve. "Are you and Ginny back together?" She sounded so happy at the prospect; he hated to tell her the truth.

"No," he told her, stopping because he had to, but unable to meet her eyes. "I don't think so."

"But…but you just…"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"But…I'm sure if you just ask her to go with you-"

"You think I haven't? You think I want this? She's dating someone else – probably shagging him, too – and you think I don't mind? I love her! Not that she'll let me say it." He shrugged a little. His shirt felt too tight, the collar too constricting.

"Then why?"

"Because this is the way she wants it."

Hermione shook her head. "This is awful."

"Yeah, well." He turned and headed back down the stairs, Hermione by his side. "You can't tell anyone."

"No, of course not."

"Not even Ron."

Hermione stopped, and he knew she was going to be a problem. He didn't even have to look at her to know the dilemma that was playing out on her face. "You're asking me to lie to Ron. Our best friend."

"Ginny doesn't want anyone to know. She didn't want you to know, but, well, there's not much I can do about that now." He started down the stairs again. "Besides, what good could come from telling him? It would most certainly ruin our friendship. And, knowing Ron, he'd probably try to kill me."

"Then why did you do it?" Hermione asked, at a loss, steps behind him. "Why would you risk losing your best mate when she's still with Ernie?"

"Because…" Why, indeed. "I love her. And this is what she wants."

* * *

The week that followed was one of the longest, and hardest of Harry's life. Between classes, detention, and an ever growing mound of homework, Harry felt like he was drowning academically. Romantically, Harry felt dead. He met Ginny whenever she said, and they had fast, brief sex that felt nothing like making love. Usually in some closet, with her in his lap, mostly clothed. There was no kissing. There was no talking. His releases became less and less mind-blowing. The last time he hadn't been able to finish at all, but Ginny hadn't noticed. He reckoned that when she got off of him and saw him go limp, she assumed he'd crested like she had.

"Are you shagging Ernie?" he'd quietly asked as she'd pulled up her knickers.

"No talking," she had said.

"Do you have all these rules for him, too?"

"No talking."

Before she walked out the door he'd whispered, "I love you." Her only response was a moment of hesitation.

* * *

Potions was difficult; not because Percy was a pompous ass, or because the N.E.W.T. level work was more than Harry was prepared to handle after coasting by on the Half-Blood Prince's work last year, but because Ernie always met him with a smile and a shoulder cuff, and more often than not helped Harry avert disaster with his assignments.

"Easy with the cottonwood blooms, mate," Ernie said just before Harry threw the bunch in. "That's strong stuff. Two petals are more than enough for the pain easier."

"Oh. Right." Harry picked two of the petals off the blossoms and dropped them into his cauldron. The bubbling mass flashed a brief white before returning to its deep blue. "Thanks."

Harry caught Hermione watching him from the corner of her eye. Ron was lost in his book, reading the recipe out loud to her.

"No problem. Too many cottonwood blooms, and the willie goes soft, if you know what I mean." Ernie gave him a lopsided, knowing smile. "Wouldn't want that."

The urge to punch Ernie was like a flash through Harry's brain, and it was a surprise when Harry blinked and he hadn't struck his Potions partner. "Yeah. But…cottonwood blooms are in _the _Potion, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Some blokes have a real problem with it. That's why they ask their birds to take the Potion for them." Except some of their birds weren't currently on the Potion. And some of their birds were someone else's birds.

"Is that what you do?" Harry asked, trying to sound causal.

"Is what what I do?" Ernie asked, as he added fish eyes to the cauldron. When Harry didn't respond, Ernie looked at him. "Oh! You mean, does Ginny…? No, we're not…that is, we've not…"

"Oh," Harry said. The relief he felt was muted by everything else, but it was there.

"Did she tell you we were?" Ernie asked.

"No. We hardly talk at all anymore," Harry truthfully admitted. "I guess I just assumed."

"Oh. Maybe that's what she meant when she said you had reached an understanding."

Harry peeled more petals off his blossoms. "She said that?"

"I asked her how things were between you, if you were still bothering her, and she said no, that's you'd reached an understanding. Which is good, because you're a good bloke, Harry, and I'd hate to have that between us."

"I'm not so good," Harry muttered. "She chose you for a reason. She said you're the best boyfriend she's ever had."

"Yeah?" Ernie said, and he sat up a little straighter. "She said that?"

"Yeah."

"Blimey, Harry! Thanks," Ernie said, beaming.

* * *

"You don't look right."

Harry blinked up from his parchment to find Luna standing beside him. It was late. He didn't think anyone was left in the library. Even Hermione had left hours ago. "Er…" His throat was dry. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken. "I've got this essay to finish."

"Yes," Luna said, sliding gracefully into the chair opposite him. "You're very behind in your schoolwork."

"Yeah." He looked back down at what he'd written. "…_mullocks greatest magical contribution is their unique ability to suck out curses from the victim_…" Mullocks? Had he been writing about mullocks? Wasn't the essay on loop worm extract? He scrolled up to the top of the parchment. _Mushroom Dust in Everyday Life_. Was he working on Herbology?

"You seemed very distracted during the DA this evening," Luna said. "Ginny hexed you three times before you managed that Shield Spell. Usually, you're faster than that."

"Yes. Thanks for noticing." Harry unrolled the three other parchments. Were they all Herbology? Why did he have his Potions book open?

"Oh, I don't mind. Are you seeing Ginny Weasley?"

Harry choked on his own spit. Luna was looking at him with her usual airy vacancy, but there was real intent in her question. "Who told you that?"

"Oh, no one. I was watching the two of you in the DA. "

Was she? Luna had been known to see things that others didn't or couldn't. Or, was she just teasing him? Did Luna have a sense of humor? "Er…Ginny's with Ernie," he said.

"Oh, yes," said Luna. "I know. Interesting choice, don't you think?"

"No! I don't think!"

"Really?" Luna asked, genuinely surprised. "I thought it was very interesting."

"There's nothing interesting about Ernie Macmillian," Harry insisted.

"Ginny seems to think there is, and I agree. He's Head Boy. That's interesting because everyone thought you'd make Head Boy. Like your father."

"No one thought that!"

"You did."

Harry felt his face go hot, and he told himself it was because he was angry. He was in the library, trying to study, minding his own business – and what did Luna know, anyway?

"So what, then? Ginny wanted a Head Boy. Well, she's got one. Brilliant."

"Oh, no," Luna said solemnly. "I don't think Ginny cares that he's Head Boy. She doesn't seem that kind of girl, does she?"

"I really don't know what kind of girl she is anymore."

"Oh," Luna contemplatively said, her dreamy eyes staring at some far away point. "Ernie's taller than you, and better looking. But not much. He gets good grades. You get good grades, don't you? Or you did. People say you've fallen off on your studies."

"What people?"

"You don't look right, Harry."

He glared at her, but she didn't seem bothered in the least. In fact, if anything, she considered him more closely.

"Of course, Ernie's parents are still alive, and he's never had a prophecy written about him. He's never faced Voldemort."

"If I'd never faced Voldemort she still would be with Ernie," Harry said.

"Oh, I don't think so. She's with him because you treated her badly, and Ernie will never treat her badly because his parents are alive and he's never faced Voldemort. Ernie is nice. He's never once called me Loony Luna."

She wasn't trying to hurt his feelings - she was just saying what they both knew to be true. That Harry would've been a different person if he hadn't been the Chosen One; if he'd grown up in a loving home with a real family and maybe brothers and sisters; if he'd never had to fight for his life and the lives of his friends.

"You think she'd still be with me if I were more like Ernie, then?" He looked at her and she gazed deep into his eyes. It was unsettling how she did that. Harry looked back down at his parchment.

"I think she's with you now."

Harry cleared his throat, no longer comfortable with Luna's candor. "I need to finish my essay."

"She's counting on you to end it," Luna told him.

Harry's heart hammered. "Sorry?"

"She can't end it, and Ernie's too nice. You're the hero, Harry."

"Did she…?" Harry shifted in his chair. "Did she say something to you?" He couldn't imagine that Ginny would talk to anyone about this. "Are you a Legiliman?"

"You don't look right, Harry, and neither does she."


	15. Chapter 14 Saying Goodbye

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 14 – Saying Good-bye

His conversation with Luna stayed with Harry for days. She was right, of course. What he and Ginny were doing, it wasn't who they were. Harry tried to get Ginny to laugh, or even smile when they were together, but she seemed to hardly notice he was there, even when she rode him to completion on the floor behind the Divination book stacks in the library, even when she pressed her body behind his and wanked him in the Head Girl's shower. She wasn't happy. And still, she sought him out, gave him times and places to meet her, and he always went.

The thing was, Ginny wasn't exactly the easiest person to break things off with, even when she didn't have her hand wrapped so tightly around his cock he thought he might die. And if Harry was being completely honest with himself, he wasn't sure he wanted to be free from the madness. He loved her so much, and the thought of not seeing her, not touching her – the thought of her seeking out another body if she couldn't have his – it left him weak.

"Harry, you're not writing."

"I'm thinking."

Hermione had been on him since supper, pressing him to work on the mountain of assignments he still had outstanding. Harry didn't see the point. There was no way he'd make up all the work, and keep up with his current studies. And doing homework didn't help him solve his Ginny dilemma.

"Well, while you're thinking, take a look at this." She passed a thick, dusty book over Ron's head. He sat on the floor in front of her on the couch, opposite Harry in his chair by the fire.

_Legilimency: The Reason We Have Occlumency, A Philosophical Discussion._ "Are you studying Legilimency now, too?"

"Page ninety-nine," Hermione said. "Second paragraph."

She'd marked the place with a scrap of parchment. Harry skimmed down.

_"The magical discipline of Legilimency has been practiced for many hundreds of years – perhaps thousands – and remains the most misunderstood of the magical arts for the simple reason that those with talents in mind penetration have been, for centuries, hunted almost to extinction, and today so very few remain. Of the dwindling number of modern survivors, most Legilimens remain ignorant of their latent abilities, and therefore untrained; and without sufficient schooling these would-be Legilimens' paltry talents wither as they reach majority. There are a scant handful of truly talented Legilimens left in our world with the ability to press purposefully into the mind of another, and even fewer who can hear the random "Broadcasting" of thoughts without having to touch the mind at all. So few, in fact, that any proper study into this arena would be next to impossible._

_"Much has been said in former times of the archaic Bond between a Legilimens and his mate, though, for the above mentioned reasons, this lore has been resigned to the realm of myth and legend. And, even though magical governments around the world still officially acknowledge a Bonding from Old Magic as a legal marriage, none has been documented in some nine hundred years. One can only assume that if it were possible, it would most certainly have been done in more recent times._

"Why am I reading this?" Harry asked.

"Esmerelda is one of the truly talented Legilimens," Hermione said. "One of the 'scant handful.' She can hear my thoughts without pushing into my head."

Harry glanced back down at the page. "Yeah? And?"

"Well," Hermione said, taking back the book, and redirecting the conversation. "If Esmerelda is a truly talented Legilimens, then what if she Bonded with Charlie?"

Ron snorted, unimpressed. "What if she did?"

"It would make her your sister-in-law."

Ron sat up, apparently seeing the seriousness of the situation. "But, they wouldn't still be Bonded, now would they? Doesn't physical distance break the Bond? It does in the fairy stories. And where did you get that book, anyway? Never in the Hogwarts library. Legilimency is a restricted subject."

Hermione considered him. "Did you ever wonder where Snape learned it? I mean, you can learn Legilimency if you study to become an Auror, or Unspeakable – one would presume – but clearly Snape didn't work for the Ministry."

"So, where did Ez learn it, then?" Ron asked, turning to Harry.

"How would I know?" Harry asked.

"Well, you've been in her head, haven't you? Poking around, and stuff. Do you know what she looks like when she showers?"

"Ron!" Hermione balked.

"What?" he asked. "She must have a memory of that somewhere."

"It doesn't work that way," Harry told him.

"Probably just as well. She's not very fit."

"Oh, Ron, you're impossible," Hermione said. "Is that all you care about? Looks?"

"Obviously," he said with a grin and a wink. "I'm with you, aren't I?"

This made Hermione blush, clearly delighted despite herself.

Schooling her expression, Hermione got up and headed for the Portrait Hole. "I'm going to see Esmerelda. Harry, keep working on your essay! And Ron, you make sure he finishes!"

"Oi!" Ron said. "It's after ten! What are you going to see that old bird for?"

"I want to know more about this. If Esmerelda is a truly gifted Legilimens, then perhaps Snape isn't. Perhaps he was merely adequate. Perhaps he was schooled too late to develop the talent. He never once heard my thoughts. I do wonder, though, if Dumbledore was truly gifted as well. It would make sense, wouldn't it? How else would he know so much without us having to tell him?"

Especially with Hermione a Screamer. It did make tremendous sense. Hermione might have told him everything without ever opening her mouth.

"So, why are you going to-" Ron never got the rest of his question out. Hermione was already through the Portrait Hole. "Bloody hell. You reckon the Aurors will let her through? They're strict about being out after curfew, but she is Head Girl."

Harry shrugged, and skimmed over the page in the book. Why would she go see Ez over this? What did Legilimency have to do with anything? "Did you ever figure out where your brother went?"

"Charlie? No." Ron's expression said he'd given the topic some thought. "You think it had something to do with him asking that mental bird to marry him? I don't get what he sees in her. You don't think she's pretty, do you?"

"He loves her."

"Well, sure. He'd have to, to ask her to marry him, wouldn't he? But why? She's not much of a looker, and all they do is bite at each other." Clearly Ron didn't appreciate the irony of his observation.

"They used to laugh," Harry said.

Ron gave him a weird look. "Yeah? But she's mental. Did you see her break down in Defense on Friday? I thought she was going to start crying right there in the middle of showing us that new Severing Spell." Ron looked disgusted, and Harry felt defensive on Ez's behalf.

"It can't be easy for her, you know. She's got nothing; no money, no family, no home. Tonks and Percy seem to be her only friends, and she loves this bloke and he's…" Harry sighed. "Weasleys can be difficult people to love."

"I'm a Weasley," Ron said, unnecessarily.

"I'm shagging your sister. I don't think I can stop."

Ron's eyes went wide, and his face lost all expression beyond a stunned sort of shock. "But…what?"

"I love her, and she won't leave Ernie, and it's killing me, which wouldn't be so bad, but I think maybe it's killing her, too. And I want it to stop, but I can't stop it-"

"You're shagging Ginny?"

"-because I'm weak. Much weaker than Ez. She loves Charlie. When she talks about him there's this intensity. And, when he's in the same room with her it's like there are sparks coming off of her, she wants him so badly, and still, she's able to resist him. He wants her and pressures her, and she can say no. She doesn't think she should be with him, and so she's not. When Ginny's with me, I know I shouldn't be with her and she knows it, as well. It's almost like she's not really there anymore, and still I can't tell her no. I can't walk away from her."

"_Shut up!_" Ron jumped up from the floor. He had his wand in his fist. "Why?" He glared at the floor.

"I'm weak-"

"Why would you _tell me_? Do you want me to…? What do you want me to do? What am I supposed to do?" He was red, and tense, and his hands shook. Why _had_ Harry told him?

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "I'd thought to win her back. I know you don't want me to date her, but…I can't not. I've got to win her back, Ron. Help me win her back."

"You don't deserve her!"

"I know." Harry wanted to deserve her. "What am I going to do?"

"Nothing! Bloody - leave her the hell alone!" Ron paced slowly, adjusting his grip on his wand. "Hermione knows, of course."

"She found out by accident."

Ron stopped. "She knows?"

"Yeah."

"And she didn't tell me?" He whirled around, casting a Slicing Arc Hex through the air. It ripped a hole in the unicorn tapestry at the base of the stairs. "_Bloody fucking hell!_" Then, he turned on Harry, wand drawn and aimed. "She's _mine!_ Not yours!"

"Who? Ginny?"

"Hermione, you bloody bastard!"

"What? I'm…I'm not interested in Hermione like that. You know that, don't you? We're friends."

"Get up you pathetic bugger! _Draw_. _Your_. _Wand_."

Harry stood, but he left his wand in his pocket. "You do what you need to do."

"You think I won't do it!" Ron insisted. "You think because you're Harry effing Potter, and you have to save the wizarding world, that I won't strike you down?"

"I think you should."

"What?" Ron looked at him, disbelieving. "You want me to hurt you? You're a sick bastard."

"It'll make you feel better."

"More like it'll make you feel better," Ron said.

"It couldn't make me feel any worse. Ginny won't even let me kiss her when we shag. She won't let me talk. It's like she doesn't want to be reminded of who I am when she tops off."

"_Shut up!_" Ron's face went unreadable, his lips pursed, his wand hand dropped. Harry thought for a moment that Ron found some sympathy for him, but he was mistaken.

"You're pathetic," Ron told him. Then he turned and went up the stairs. Harry forced himself to follow.

Neville was already in bed with his curtains drawn, but Seamus and Dean sat near the window playing a fast game of Exploding Snaps. They both watched as Ron stormed around his bed, throwing nightclothes out of his trunk, and slamming the lid closed. When he saw Harry come in the room he pointed an angry finger at him.

"You stay the hell away from me," Ron told him. "And you stay the hell away from my sister!"

"Ron, please-"

"You shut up!" Ron snapped at him.

"Oi, there," Dean said peering out the window. "Isn't that…? That's Hermione down there. And Professor Tonks, it has to be. No one else has hair that color, even in the moonlight. I thought the grounds were off limits."

"Hermione?" Ron went to the window and peered down. "What the hell? I thought she was going to find Esmerelda."

Harry grabbed his broom, and headed to the window.

"And where the bloody hell do you think you're going?" Ron demanded.

"To find out what's going on," Harry said. He tapped the window with his wand, and flew out into the night. Ron was just a few seconds behind him.

Sure enough there were two figures, making their way toward Charlie's hut. When had it become Charlie's hut, and not Hagrid's?

Ron called to them. "Oi, below!" He swooped down and came to a stop just a couple of feet off the ground. Harry stopped on the other side of them.

"Wotcher, Ron!" Tonks said happily. "I see you're hoping for detention, too. I can oblige you there! Oi, Harry! Not got enough work, have you? Need more piled on your load?"

"What are you boys doing?" Hermione scolded. "What's wrong with you two? It's like you want to be in trouble."

Ron's brows lowered, his eyes narrowed on her. "What's wrong is you _knew_."

"I knew?"

"You knew," Ron continued, "and you kept it a secret from me. It's like a lie, Hermione."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"He's shagging my sister! He's doing her, and her with a boyfriend! And _you knew_!"

"Oh…no…did he find you?" she asked, Harry knew she was talking to him even though her eyes were on the ground.

"He bloody _told_ me!"

She gasped. "Harry! You didn't!"

"Oh, he did!" Ron said. "But it should've been you. You should've told me when you found out!"

"Oh, Ron! I couldn't!"

"Because he asked you not to?" Ron pressed. When she didn't answer right away, he nodded. "Yeah. I see how it is."

"Oh, really?" she asked, a spark of anger lighting her eyes. "And, how is it, then?"

"Easy now," Tonks said. "Let's all go back up before – oh, bloody hell."

Running down from the castle, wands drawn, were a handful of Aurors. The Inquisition had arrived.

A door slammed behind them, and Harry turned to see Esmerelda burst out of Charlie's hut. Her face was pale, her dark eyes wide, her hair and robes billowed behind her as she ran toward the castle holding one thigh, and a limp in her gait. "He's here!" she cried as she flew past. "They were attacked in Hogsmeade! He's hurt!"

"Charlie?" Tonks asked, and then bolted after her. "Harry! Take her in! Ron, give me a lift, will you?"

Harry swooped down in front of Ez, and she threw herself on the back of his broom. "The entrance hall," she said into his shoulder. She gripped him tight as they took off, and she buried her face in his back. He could feel her muttering. "I'm coming…hold on…"

They swooped over the approaching Aurors, and came to a skidding halt on the steps just outside the heavy oak doors. Ez ran for the doors, pushed them open, and by the time Harry made it inside she was already across the room. Harry froze. The sight on the floor stole what little breath he had left. Charlie Weasley was on his back, head thrown to the side, arms and legs askew. His robes had been pulled away to reveal a gash across his thigh and hip so deep Harry made out the sickly yellow of bone through the red/black of blood. His leg shook, as did the rest of him.

Ron arrived and gasped as if he'd been punched in the stomach, then mounted his broom and flew at break-neck speed past Charlie and up the stairs.

"Shit…Charlie…" Tonks dropped down next to Ez. She held her hands out, as if she didn't know where to touch him, or of she should.

Esmerelda didn't hesitate. She shoved her robes into the wound, and leaned heavily on it. Charlie gave a weak grunt. He was still conscious, Harry realized with something akin to horror.

"Lift his legs, damn you!" Ez yelled, and Tonks was quick to assist.

Harry realized that the figure standing over them, amid the gawking Aurors, was none other than the traitor Snape.

Without thought, Harry's wand was in his hand, and aimed. Snape noticed, but he bent and helped to lift Charlie's legs by his muddy boots. Again, Charlie grunted, and then he gave a low keening groan.

"You hold on, you son of a bitch," Ez muttered to him. "Ron's getting the healer."

"Didn't want you…to see…" Charlie's voice was barely there.

"You've had worse," she said. Blood was already soaking her robes, staining her hands.

"No," he whispered. "Mere…"

"Save your strength," she snapped.

There was a gasp with a little cry, as Hermione and the other Aurors finally arrived. She grabbed Harry's shoulder. "What happened?"

It hardly mattered, Harry thought. Charlie was dying; bleeding to death on the flagstone floor.

The Aurors circled around them, and voices started flaring. "St. Mungo's!" one of them insisted. "There was an attack in Hogsmeade?" cried another. "Orders were given to spread out and secure the castle." Several jumped into action to make sure the school was protected.

"Mere…" Charlie tried again.

"Nym, don't you know any Healing Spells?" Ez asked, desperation raw in her voice. "I can Heal a burn like no body's business. Why didn't I bother to learn a Suture Spell?"

"He needs more than a Suture Spell," Tonks said quietly. "Ez, talk to him."

She shook her head. "If I cast a Petrify Spell…his heart will keep beating, won't it? What if we-"

"Ez."

"-use a Chronus Spell? Try to slow him down, stop some of this bleeding. You think that would work?"

"No," Tonks told her. "Talk to him. This might be your last-"

"What about you?" Ez shouted at Snape. "Can you stop the bleeding?"

"If I could," he said with distain, "I never would've brought him to this miserable place."

"Why didn't you take him to the hospital?" Ez demanded. Her voice was finally going a little shrill.

"It's wasn't safe," Snape said.

"Safe?" Tonks cried. "The Ministry protects St. Mungo's!"

"The Ministry has been compromised," Snape said, his eyes narrowing on her, saying more than his words did. What did Snape know?

"Mere…" Charlie's blood-caked fist rose shaking, and he managed to grasp her arm. "You're…the new Secret…Keeper."

"Hate me that much, eh?" she joked, and then thought better of it. "No. Charlie, just another minute and the healer will be here. She's good, you said so yourself. She can patch this in no time."

"_Ta iubesc_," he eked out in Romanian, and then his eyes rolled back. He began to convulse. Pink foam gurgled up his throat and spilled over the corner of his mouth. A breath later he went still as stone.

"Here!" Ron came bounding down the stairs, followed closely by Madam Pomfrey in her volumes of skirts. She had a lumpy bag and pockets full of potions, and she began pouring two and three at a time down Charlie's throat. He didn't look as if he was swallowing. He didn't look as if he could. He looked dead. He looked like Mrs. Weasley's bogart.

Hermione quietly cried on Harry's shoulder, and Ron – he stared down at his brother with wide, blue, disbelieving eyes. Madam Pomfrey shooed Ez's hands away, and she lifted the sodden robes. They landed on the floor with a thick, wet plop. Even the healer blanched when she saw the extent of the injuries.

Tonks tried to help Ez to stand, but then Ez pushed her friend away. She left a bloody handprint on her shoulder.

"Severus," Madam Pomfrey said. "Lower his legs, if you please." She set to work closing the wound.

"What the fuck happened?" Ez turned on Snape like a jackal on a rat. "Who did this?"

He took a step back, but stood his full height. "Not here," he said. His glance flickered at the crowd surrounding them.

"Show me," Ez demanded, and Snape met her level gaze so she could Read him. They both gave a sharp, shocked inhale, and recoiled as their minds touched.

"You there! Nymphadora! Assist me!" Madam Pomfrey called. She thrust several vials into Tonks' hands. "First the red, then the white, half a bottle each in quick succession. Then the green slowly, just a drop at a time over the wound."

Tonks nodded frantically, as she uncorked the bottles with her teeth.

"No…" Esmerelda murmured. She shook her head as if trying to rouse herself from a bad dream. "No…"

Snape blinked, and then looked pointedly down at Charlie. Then he looked back up at Ez. "Ah," he sighed. "Now it makes sense."

Esmerelda turned from him, gazed at the wizard on the floor. "Charlie? I can barely hear you. Charlie? Stay where you are. No, damn it!" She took a step toward him as Madam Pomfrey and Tonks worked over his body. The puddle of blood around his lower body grew, spread. "Charlie?"

Harry stood there, an arm around Hermione, watching another person he cared about die. The air in the entry hall was heavy and cold, so unlike that night in June. The traitor Snape had been there just as he was now, glowering down at the figure on the floor with hooded, dark eyes. This time Harry wasn't frozen. This time he had his wand. He realized it was still aimed.

Would he fire? Would he use The Killing Curse without warning or remorse like the traitor had done? Would he cast The Cruciatus? In a castle full of Aurors, did he dare? Why hadn't they stopped him? Couldn't they see he had his wand aimed? Couldn't Hermione? Maybe they didn't care.

Tonks tossed empty vials aside in her rush to help Charlie, and Madam Pomfrey muttered a chant beneath her breath as she waved her wand over the wound. Would either of them look up if the traitor Snape were to suddenly die? If Harry were to deliver the deathblow? Could Harry even do it? He'd tried on Bellatrix Lastrange, but he hadn't had the hatred behind the spell to pull it off. Now he did, he thought. For Snape, he did. A flip of his wand, two all-powerful words, and the traitor would be dead. It was just that easy.

Murderous thoughts slipped from his head as Esmerelda collapsed. Snape caught her, and something in Harry roared. He pushed Hermione away and lunged at the traitor. "Let go of her!"

Snape looked at Harry as if he were a rabid pigmy puff as he struggled to hold Ez upright. Her hands went protectively to her head.

Harry pulled her away from Snape, and even though she wasn't unconscious she was dead weight, and more than he could handle. She began to slip to the floor.

"_Mobilicorpus!_" Madam Pomfrey levitated Charlie up, as if on a stretcher, and she and Tonks quickly pushed him up the stairs. Ron followed.

Hermione pushed the traitor out of the way, and shoved her shoulder beneath Ez's arm. Together, she and Harry managed to get Ez back on her feet.

"You," Harry said, raising his wand at Snape once more. "You're coming with us."

"Naturally," Snape said with a mocking bow. "Must keep the prisoners from being at all helpful." He started up the stairs. Harry and Hermione walked Ez up behind him.

"Must keep the prisoners from escaping," Harry corrected.

"You dim-witted child! There's nowhere for me to escape to! In rescuing Charlie Weasley I've effectively identified myself as Order. Years of careful planning, of sacrifice, are wasted!"

"If you really did rescue Charlie, then it wasn't wasted," Hermione insisted.

"If he had listened to me in the first place, he would not have needed rescuing! He never was one to pay attention the first go-round. I warned Dumbledore that one did not have the experience-"

"Don't you say his name!" Harry shouted, and Ez groaned. She leaned heavier on Hermione. "You've no right to say his name!"

Snape whirled on the stairs and his black robes swirled around him. "I have every right," he quietly insisted, his glare intense. "Dumbledore forced from me a promise I never should have made!"

"So you murdered him!"

"It's not murder if it's an order!"

"You can't hide behind your Dark Mark! You weren't compelled to kill him! I was there! You weren't under the Imperious Curse! You saw him and walked up to him and _Avada Ka_-"

"Harry!" Hermione gasped. She stopped him just in time. He still had his wand pointing at the traitor, and this time he was certain the spell would've worked.

Snape glared down at him with a mixture of disgust and incredulity in his eyes. He knew how close Harry just come to revenge. Was he more surprised that Harry had it in him, or that he stopped?

"A lot has happened since we last met, traitor."

"Yes," Snape said. "So I see."

"Charlie?" Esmerelda came alive. "Oh, fuck, no…" She pulled away from Harry and Hermione and, finding some inner strength, took the steps two at a time.

It was difficult to keep up with her. Ez was not a slight witch, and even favoring one leg she moved like lightning. She stopped just inside the infirmary door and stared at Charlie laid out on the closest bed. Madam Pomfrey still worked over him, but Tonks had sunk to the floor by beside him, unneeded. She sat on her heels, blood painting her hands and arms up to her elbows, coating the front of her shirt and side of her face. Tears fell freely down her cheeks.

"He's gone," Ez whispered. She looked as if she might faint. She pushed a fist into her belly. "His mind is a blank…it's gone."

"No!" Hermione cried.

Ron stood tall at the end of the bed, staring lost down at his brother. "He's dead then?"

"Coma," Madam Pomfrey said. "Brain's shut down. He's lost too much blood."

"A coma's not dead," Hermione said quietly, stepping beside Ron and slipping her hand into his. "He's still breathing."

"Someone fetch the Headmistress," Madam Pomfrey snapped. "And give me some air. I need to think."

"I'll go," Harry said. "Tonks, will you watch the traitor?"

She nodded, eyes glistening, and stood. "Come now, Snape. Let's sit," she said, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. "You can tell me exactly what happened." Harry watched the two of them settle across the room. Snape pale and black, and Tonks' hair having gone mousy brown.

* * *

The rest of that night felt like a month. After Harry fetched the Headmistress, Tonks escorted him to collect Ginny. She and Ron embraced in the infirmary, and by that time Mrs. and Mrs. Weasley had arrived, as did Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry hadn't seen him since Dumbledore's funeral.

"Hogsmeade looks like a clan of giants has been through," he said. He ran a thick hand over his bald head. "It will take time to rebuild, but my guess is not many will try until there's some assurance that it's safe."

"Was anyone else hurt?" Tonks asked. They all turned and looked at Snape, who stood against the stone wall with his arms crossed.

"Many," he said slowly. "We've been lodging in the Board's Head. There were others there."

"And you recognized the Death Eaters who attacked?" she pressed.

"Of course," Snape said.

"I can track them through the Ministry," Mr. Weasley suggested. "We can make arrests."

"I sincerely doubt that," Snape said.

"You know what we're dealing with, Severus," Lupin said. "How did they know where to find you? Only the Secret Keeper could've told them where you were."

"Yes, that would be true," Snape said evenly, "if the Secret Keeper in question were not…Bonded."

McGonagall gasped. "Bonded? As in Old Magic? Certainly not!"

Snape inclined his head in the barest of nods, and then glared at Ez. She stood away from the rest, arms wrapped tightly about herself, and eyes glazed as she stared at Charlie's still form.

"No," Harry emphatically said. "Not her. She didn't do this. But you, on the other hand-"

"I was there for more than three weeks," Snape bit out. He glared at Harry down his hooked nose. "As a prisoner, you will recall. I had no contact with anyone outside young Mr. Weasley."

"What are we going to do with him?" Tonks asked Lupin. "It's not like we can just let him roam the castle. Not after what he's done here."

Harry watched Snape, studied his gaunt face. The traitor didn't show even the least discomfort with Tonks' reference to the previous June.

"Put him in chains," Harry said.

"We could hold him at the Ministry," Shacklebolt suggested.

"The Ministry's been compromised," Snape said testily. It was only the tenth time he'd said it that hour.

"But what does that mean?" Tonks demanded.

He didn't seem to want to answer that question.

"Ez? Where are you going?" Tonks asked, distracted as her friend limped passed on the way to the door. "Are you all right? Ez?"

Percy stood, concerned, but his mother touched his arm to stop him from going to Ez.

"I have to go. I promised him," she said, her eyes firmly planted on the floor.

"Do you need me to come with you?"

"No," Ez said, and then left. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand.

"Go after her," Lupin suggested quietly.

"What about this one?" Tonks asked, nodding to the traitor.

"If what you told me is right, and Ez is the new Secret Keeper," Lupin said, "then someone needs to stay with her. The oath will have to be taken as soon as possible-"

"Charlie's not even dead yet!" Tonks objected.

"Remus is right," Shacklebolt said. "The Order was left unprotected for a full day last time. It'll be wise to cover ourselves before our Secret Keeper dies."

Mrs. Weasley cried out, and Mr. Weasley shook his head. "He may live yet."

"He named Esmerelda," Lupin insisted. "We must get her oath as soon as possible. Tonks, luv, go after her. Help her prepare. We'll do it this morning."

* * *

The ceremony took place in the Headmistress' office, away from the shock and rumors that rippled through the school. It was somber and brief, and when Ez's black wand shattered she looked as if she might as well. She stared down at Dumbledore's wand in her hand, though Harry wasn't sure she actually saw it.

"If my father only knew," she said to no one in particular.

When the transfer was complete, the others gave Ez a few moments to collect herself. She looked more exhausted than Harry had ever seen her. He approached her slowly. "You all right?"

She shook her head. "We're going to Godric's Hollow."

Harry was stunned. "Now?"

"Snape will take us."

The traitor narrowed his eyes on her.

"Snape?" Everything inside Harry lurched. "You know where it is? Tell me! Tell me where it is!"

"He can't tell you anything," Ez warned through a sigh. "He can only take us there."

"We're coming, too," Hermione said with urgency. "We won't be left behind! Harry needs us!"

McGonagall opened her mouth, Harry was certain to stifle Hermione's hopes, but she closed it before she said a word. She glanced at Ez, Harry was shocked to see, to defer to her.

Ez didn't say anything, she just pushed the heel of her hand against her head. Snape shook his head in disgust.

And then Hermione's outburst registered. "Both of you?" Harry asked her. "You're both coming with me? Even him?" He nodded to Ron with a jerk of his chin.

"Yeah," Ron said, not looking at him.

"Even now?"

"Even now that you're a prick?"

"Mr. Weasley!" Professor McGonagall scolded.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

"Yeah," Ron said. "I made a promise. _We_ made a promise. And Hermione's right. You do need us."

"Fine," Ez said. "Harry, give me your arm. Walk with me." Her leg seemed to hurt her even more now, and she leaned heavily on Harry as they made their way out the door. "We're going to the infirmary."

"Right. Madame Pomfrey can help heal your -"

"No, never mind that," she said. "It's not important. Harry, Severus Snape is a dangerous wizard."

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm quite aware of that."

"He hates you."

"Not as much as I hate him."

She sighed. "He'd die for you."

That he hadn't expected. "You're wrong."

"He's not a Death Eater. I know Death Eaters. I know what their minds feel like, what they smell like."

"He killed Dumbledore."

"Yeah." She stopped, and took a deep breath, closed her eyes.

"Ez?"

"The pain is superficial. The Sever will be worse. When the Bond dies…it will be much worse."

"So, you are Bonded with Charlie?"

She looked at him for a moment, and linked an arm with his and started walking again. "The Sever will get better with time and distance, but you must understand that I'm not going to be any help you for a couple of days. Maybe longer. A very real part of me is going to die when the link is broken, and if I survive, I'm likely to lose it, Harry. If Voldemort attacks you, Snape will have to protect you for me. Harry, please don't object. There isn't any point."

"He killed Dumbledore! I saw him do it!"

"But he won't kill you," she said.

"How can you know that? How can you be sure?"

She sighed. "I can't tell you that."

"He won't do it. He hates me."

"It's not about hate or love, it's about duty. It's about a promise."

"Why don't you care that he murdered Dumbledore?"

"I do care."

"He's a murderer!"

"So am I," she said quietly. "So will you be, if you are successful against You-Know-Who."

"Killing isn't murder if it's for self-preservation."

Her brows rose. "It's good you can make that distinction. Not everyone can. It'll eat you alive if you can't. But, Harry, killing isn't what you think. It isn't easy, and it isn't free. It hurts long after the deed is done, and much deeper than you'd ever think possible. The first wizard I killed to save my life, the second to save my love. I've killed in battle and under orders, and because at the time I thought it was the right thing to do. I would cut them all down again if I had to - well, all but one - but they all haunt me, just like he will haunt you."

"The traitor Snape doesn't seem haunted."

"Then you don't really see him. Yes, Snape is dark. His mind is as dark as I've ever seen. But he is haunted, too. He has to be. Only the true evil can kill without conscience, and Snape simply isn't evil." She took a deep breath. "And, even so, stay away from him when you can, but use him when you need to. He's a fair Legilimens, but a powerful Occlumens. He will protect you."

"What if I don't want his protection?"

"We all do what we have to."

When the entered the infirmary, Percy broke away from his mother and Ginny and rushed over to Ez. His arms went around her as if they embraced all the time. She leaned heavily against him.

"What happened?" he asked. "You need Madam Pomfrey-"

"No, Percy, I'm fine. It's just…you know, side-effects."

He searched her face. "Side-effects? You were Bonded? Again?"

She reluctantly nodded.

"Oh, Ez…you said you wouldn't-"

"Please," she whispered. "Not now."

Percy nodded. "I'm sorry. I just hate that he can hurt you when he's not even conscious."

"It is annoying." Her eyes landed on Charlie, and her face went soft and sad. "Help me to him."

Harry motioned to Ginny, and she crossed to him. He took her hand. "Gin."

"So, you're finally leaving, then?"

"Not for long."

"You don't know that," she whispered. "This might be the first step on your grand search. Don't go."

"Leave Ernie."

Her eyes watered, and she glared at the floor. "I broke it off with him weeks ago," she admitted. "Just after the dance."

"You did? Honestly?" Harry was stunned. "He…he didn't seem upset."

"No. He wouldn't, would he? Ernie's a nice bloke. It was sort of mutual. We're friends now."

Harry swallowed. Why were the words so hard to form all of a sudden? "That's good."

"Now will you stay? Now that you know?"

"I can't. I wish…I have to go to Godric's Hollow. I have to see it."

"That's where you're going?"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

She shrugged, sighed. "It wouldn't have made any difference."

"It would've," Harry insisted.

"It hasn't. You're still leaving."

"But, I'm coming back. And when I do, I'm going to ask you to be my girlfriend."

"Maybe I'll ask you to be my boyfriend," she teased.

"Even better." They smiled at each other, and Harry felt lighter than he had in months.

He leaned in to kiss her, when Mrs. Weasley's gasp startled them apart. Harry looked over to see Ez and Percy exchanging a light kiss, just before she leaned down and pressed her lips first to Charlie's pale forehead, and then equally pale mouth. She whispered something to him in Romanian. Then she turned to Harry.

"Get your friends. It's time to go."


	16. Chapter 15 Godric's Hollow

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 15 – Godric's Hollow

The mid-morning sun was all but blotted out by over-grown trees and clouds and a heavy, cold mist that clung to them as they walked. A charm had been placed over Godric's Hollow to keep people out, and Harry thought he could feel the magic in the air. This was a place of solitude and sadness. No one lived there any longer, and thanks to the charm, next to no one visited. Muggles and wizards alike couldn't simply penetrate Godric's Hollow, one had to Apparate in and, only a wizard who had been to the village before the night it died – the night Harry's parents and all the other inhabitants of the village were massacred – could Apparate in and Disapparate out. The purpose of this was clear; once Godric's Hollow fell from living memory, its residence would finally be able to rest.

The traitor brought them one at a time, starting with Esmerelda and ending with Hermione. The intervals between each arrival were quiet and eerie, and Harry found it difficult to stand still. He knew he'd been there before, and he found himself searching for connections that didn't exist. Did he remember that tree? That shadow? The moist, musty smell? No, none of it was familiar.

It was difficult to see. Even the shadows had shadows, and they seemed to move in the swirling air. Snape guided them down a narrow lane. Presumably there were houses on either side, but they were more mass than detail in the fog, and difficult to make out. Their footsteps were loud and echoed in the gloom. The road was slick. Esmerelda stumbled. The traitor Snape righted her, before putting a few steps of distance between them again, and it occurred to Harry that going to a place he couldn't escape on his own with a traitor and a mad, sick witch probably wasn't the wisest thing he'd ever done. A glance from Ron said he was thinking much the same thing.

They were led up one of the walkways, and Harry stepped around a metal gate that hung half-off a cinder stump. There were bumblic bushes, withered and black in anticipation of the upcoming winter. Harry remembered what Charlie had said about mapins nesting in the summer in the east. This was the place.

As he stepped closer to where the house should have been, though, there was nothing - no walls, no door. Snape stepped over the threshold, lifted his robes to do so, and then Ron helped Esmerelda in.

Hermione stepped beside Harry and touched his arm. "You don't have to go in, you know. It doesn't look like there's much left." She spoke quietly, and with concern.

"Of course I'm going in."

She laced her fingers through his and gave them a supportive squeeze. "I know."

They stepped over the debris together, and into what once might've been an entry chamber. The floor was charred black, and missing in places, and the ground below had grown weeds where light must, on occasion, peek through. Hermione was right, there wasn't much of anything left; the leg of a table, metal doorknobs now warped from the heat of a fire. There had been a narrow staircase at once point; Harry could see the outline on what remained on the wall. He had been up those stairs once, he knew, but there was nothing familiar about them. He gazed up at the trees and murkiness above where a ceiling would've been, a roof.

The Killing Curse didn't burn. "Who started the fire?" Harry looked expectantly at the traitor.

Snape cast a bored eye over the ruins. "Who do you think?"

Death Eaters. "But why?"

Snape didn't answer any more than a shake of his head. Had he Whispered that away too?

Harry tried to imagine the walls up. He tried to see the mother he knew only from photographs standing by the hearth that was now reduced to blackened, broken bricks. Had she tended a fire there? Had his father walked across these floorboards? Touched that door? Harry hadn't really expected to remember anything, but he had hoped. Disappointment weighed heavy on him as he walked through what must have once been a small kitchen and then a bedroom, and felt nothing at all beyond the chill from the mist. Had his parents slept just there, in a bed long gone?

He didn't know why he was torturing himself. They'd slept in beds at Hogwarts, too, and Harry had never waxed poetical about those.

Hermione wandered in, hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat. Her expression was solemn. She didn't have to say anything.

"Hermione! Harry!" Ron's call from the front room was tinged with panic, and they ran to him through the maze of downed beams and the remnants of plaster walls. He was already stepping over the front door with Esmerelda's bulk cradled in his arms.

"This way," Snape said, and he stalked down the path, the mist swirling in his wake.

"What happened?" Hermione anxiously asked. "Is she all right?"

Ez had her arms wrapped around Ron's neck, and her dangling feet bobbed with his every step. "Harry, remember what we talked about…I can't protect you now."

"I'm good," he said.

"We're a long way from Hogwarts."

"Don't worry," he told her.

The traitor led them back down road to the path, and then to the first lane again. He used his wand to open a gate, and then the front door of a small house with dirty windows and yellow paint peeling from the plaster. It had a thatched roof that sprouted small plants and bushes, making the cottage look even more neglected.

Inside, Snape nodded for them to follow to the small room in the back. Ron settled Ez on the dusty double bed there.

"You've been here before," Harry said. Snape had found the house and the bed a little too easily. "You know this place."

The traitor conjured a cup out of his palm and thrust it at Hermione. "There's a well in the back garden. Fetch her some water."

Hermione took it and left, giving Ron a parting look. They were all uneasy. With Esmerelda sick, would the traitor try something? Attack them? Harry didn't think he'd run, but if he did they'd be stranded.

"Take them to the graveyard," Ez said thickly. "Leave me alone."

They met Hermione on her way back in. "Stay with her," Snape ordered. "And for magic's sake keep your wand out, you silly girl. We're not on holiday! Anyone could be lurking about."

Ron touched her hand as they passed.

The sun was high in the sky now, but dulled by the persistent fog that left Harry chilled and clammy. It was difficult to see more than twenty paces in front of them, and so they hurried to catch up with the traitor. He didn't lead them far. Almost directly across the street was a small triangular park outlined with black iron fencing, and heavy trees. They walked along that fence until they reached the gate. The traitor pushed the heavy lattice doors open with an echoing clang.

The headstones were laid out in rows, tightly packed back to back. Harry had to lean in to read them. Murdock Humphries, Estellar Humphries, Felix and Grumpet Humphries. Four stones dated 31 October, 1981. They were all like that; families grouped together, and then the date of 31 October, 1981. The rows fanned out on either side of the narrow path, and seemed in the mist to be endless.

Somewhere in the middle of the stone forest the traitor stopped and glared down at one marker in particular. James Potter. Harry read the words again, neatly etched. Here he was. The ground was solid and the weeds and grass were still green, and wet. Harry dropped down on his knees. His father was down there. He'd never been so close. In his mind's eye he imagined the man from the photos lying, as if sleeping, on a fluffy white pillow in a shiny black box. He was down there, and this was real.

His mother was next to him. Lily Potter. The headstones were simple, identical to the next, save for the name. Lily and James. Mum and dad.

Harry looked up, but Snape had faded back into the fog, and Ron – Harry caught the last glimpse of ginger as his mate glanced back over his shoulder at him. They were giving him time alone with his parents. Did they expect he'd cry? Break down? Talk to the graves? Was that what he was supposed to do?

"Mum?" Harry tentatively said. "Dad? It's me. Harry."

No, it felt wrong, saying the words out loud. Obvious. Ridiculous. They couldn't hear him any more than Sirius could. Or Dumbledore. But they were there, beneath him. He spread his hands over the ground. It was as cold and wet as the headstone. He traced his father's name with a finger. This was where he wanted to be buried. Next to his parents. He wondered who he should tell.

That last thought drove him to his feet again. Harry found Ron wandering, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the markers as he passed.

"Creepy here," Harry muttered.

"Why do you reckon he had Hermione stay behind?" Ron was staring at the name Kirk Kirkpatrick.

"To help Ez incase Death Eaters show up?"

"I don't care what that bloody witch says, Snape's one of them. And he singled Hermione out to get the water, too. You think he's trying to separate us?"

"Dunno," Harry said. If Ron had been talking about anyone else Harry would've dismissed his suspicion as paranoia, but with the traitor anything was possible. "Want to get back to her, then?"

"Yeah."

They walked along the fence until they made it back to the gate where Snape leaned, arms crossed, waiting.

"Family reunion over so soon?"

"So what was it?" Harry demanded. "The Death Eaters came in and slaughtered the whole town?"

"Where were you that night?" Ron pushed, taking a step toward Snape, who sneered at him.

"Watch your tongue, Weasley."

"And you watch your step," Ron returned. "I've got my eye on you."

"I'm shaking in my boots."

Harry put a calming hand on Ron's shoulder. "Not now," he said. "Let's get back to Hermione."

"You trust him?" Ron muttered as they stalked back across the lane.

"Not a bit," Harry said. "Keep your guard up."

Hermione was in the front room of the cottage, and gasped when they opened the door, wand drawn.

"Easy!" Ron darkly quipped.

She rolled her eyes and relaxed, and bent to retrieve the framed photo she'd dropped. "What took you both so long?"

"Long? We weren't even gone half an hour."

"Exactly! Half an hour! Anything could've happened in half an hour!"

"Did anything happen?" Harry asked.

"Well, no. But it could have."

Harry peeked into the back room. Ez was on her side, curled under a blanket. "Wonder how long she'll be out."

"The rest of the day, the irresponsible nag," Snape said. "It's dinner time. Which one of you brats can heat up beans?" He held up a can of Heinz Bountiful Beans. Ron's eyes lit up.

"Heinz! They're the best! Mum always bought the off-brand. Tasted like fish."

"Heinz is wizard?" Hermione asked, and then shook her head. "It's Muggle."

"There's nothing Muggle about Bountiful Beans!" He took the can from Snape. "And see? There are still a full fifty-seven servings! Brilliant! Come on, Hermione, I'll show you how it works."

* * *

It took three _Scourgify_ Charms to clean the small table in the kitchen, the dust was so thick. The dishes in the cupboard were somewhat better, but still needed to be cleaned before they could be used. Harry washed, Ron stirred.

"I think I know whose house this was," Hermione said quietly as they worked. When she hesitated, both Ron and Harry looked up at her. "The photograph from the mantel." She led them over to the fireplace in the living room. "It's an older couple, and a teenage boy. He looked a lot like…well, like Snape."

"What?" Harry dropped his rag and grabbed the photo from her. It was true – the images was of the traitor at no more than sixteen, standing hunched and brooding next to an old witch and wizard who were poking at him, trying to get him to smile. It was the same face Harry remembered all too well from the Occlumency torture sessions a year ago.

"We know Snape's a half-blood," Hermione continued in a whisper. The three of them huddled together next to the fireplace and stared down at the faces from the past. "And if his mum's family were the magical, then these should be his maternal grandparents, the Princes. And, I think his grandmother was called Domitia. There was some cross stitch in the bedroom signed with that name."

"You're brilliant," Ron whispered to her.

"So, Snape's brought us home? What's his game?" Harry stared at the photo.

"And where's he disappeared to?" Ron asked.

"I thought…" Hadn't he gone in to Esmerelda? Harry hurried to the bedroom door, but Snape wasn't there, and Ez was still sound asleep. The loo was also empty.

"Well, there are only four rooms, so he must've gone out," Ron deduced.

"To be sure we're safe here?" Hermione suggested. None of them believed that.

"Hadn't we better go looking for him?" Ron asked. "Isn't he a prisoner, or something?"

"He's not going to escape. I'm not all together sure he has anywhere to escape to." Harry glanced around the living room. "Don't you think this would be a good place for him to hide, if he didn't want to be found?"

"He's a Death Eater!" Ron insisted.

"Ez says he's not."

Stunned, Ron gaped at Harry.

"You can't be serious," Hermione said at last. "She's obviously delusional."

"That bird's a mental case!" Ron agreed.

"Maybe," Harry said with a shrug.

"You…you still believe Snape killed Dumbledore, don't you?" Hermione hesitantly asked.

"Well, yes. Of course. I saw him do it."

"He's still a murderer, then," Hermione added. "So, it makes sense that we should keep him from escaping."

"If you like. I'll stay here with Ez," Harry placated. Hermione's mouth dropped open. "What? Someone's got to stay with her. And, well, look. If the traitor's going to escape, he'd have done it by now, right? How long has it been since we've last saw him? Ten minutes? Fifteen? All he has to do is Disapparate, right? If you're right and he's going to make a run for it, he's already gone."

"But-" Ron objected.

"Go look for him if you want," Harry told him. "Find out what he's up to. He's not going to escape, I tell you, but if Hermione's right, and this is his grandparents' house, then he knows a helluva lot more than we originally thought. About Godric's Hollow, and my parents, and well, all of it. And I want to know. It could be important."

The front door slammed open, and the object of their conversation filled the door with his gaunt frame. He eyed them with the same suspicion that they gave him. In his long, thin arms he carried a pile of firewood. His dark eyes flashed anger when he saw the photograph in Hermione's hand. She quickly replaced it on the mantel.

"Snooping?" he said, less of a question than an accusation. He swept past them and deposited the wood in the brass bin by the hearth. "Can't leave well-enough alone. Always poking your nose where it doesn't belong, always in someone else's business. Just like your father-"

"What do you know about my father?" Harry demanded.

"Plenty!" Snape shouted as he whirled on Harry. "More than you could dream!"

"Did you kill him?"

"No!" Snape barked. Harry already knew the answer to that. His dad's echo had come out of Voldemort's wand when Harry faced him in the graveyard, fourth year.

"But, did you see it happen?"

Snape opened his mouth, his face twisted in fury, but nothing came out. He recoiled as if stung, and glared at Harry.

"Answer him, damn you!" Ron shouted.

"He can't. He's Whispered it away. Haven't you?" Harry asked. "Can't answer that, either, can you?"

"Then that means he was there, doesn't it?" Ron insisted.

"Not necessarily," Hermione said.

"This was your grandparents' house, wasn't it?" Harry asked the traitor, who stood silent and scowling. "Your mother's parents. Why did you bring us here? Is this place safe, or a trap? What's your game?"

The traitor dropped one of the logs into the fireplace, and lit it with his wand. It erupted with a pop of red-gold flames.

"You think you lost everything that night," Snape said sullenly, stiffly. "You weren't the only one, you pathetic, mewling brat!"

"Who buried them all?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Ask the important questions."

"What else do you know?" Harry demanded.

"Nothing I can tell you! Ask the important questions!"

"Where is Voldemort?" Hermione blurted out.

Snape whirled on her, eyes fierce and condemning. His mouth didn't open.

"Oh, my stars," Hermione whispered. "He knows."

* * *

That night Harry dreamed of darkness and trees, of cold wind, of a moonless sky. There were the sounds of paws rustling across the dead leaves on the ground, and of fire popping, crackling, hissing.

_"Report, Wormtail."_

_"He is there, with the boy, my Lord."_

_"And the other? The Red one. What of him?"_

_"They say he's dying, my Lord. No hope-"_

_"He was supposed to be dead! You assured me Dolohov could take care of him!"_

_"Yes, my Lord, as he will when the Red succumbs! Had Snape not played his part so well-"_

_"I will not hear you use him as an excuse! _Crucio!_"_

Harry jerked awake, chest heaving, heart in his throat. It was cold, and the floor was hard on his shoulder. He curled to quiet himself. He could still feel the thrill of torture, and rush of power. It was sickening. Harry needed some water. He rolled on to his back and took a deep breath. Another dream. Was Voldemort still in there? In his head? No, Harry decided. He was alone.

He took another deep breath. Musty and dusty. Why were they still in Godric's Hollow? Why had they come at all? There were no answers there. There was nothing left but a graveyard and empty, forgotten houses. Ash and dust. Ginny had been right when she said there was no mystery to Voldemort. He did what he did because he was evil, and Harry didn't need to read that in the headstones across the street. He didn't need to walk through the ruins of his parents' cottage, or stand where his father stood when he was cut down to know that Voldemort would continue to kill and hurt and control and terrorize. What would he feel when he finally killed Voldemort? Ez had asked. Harry didn't know how it would be possible he'd feel anything but relief.

And who was Harry? A lost son. A wretched friend and an even worse boyfriend. A marginal student. Was that how he would be remembered? His father had been a hero, his mother as well. When he finally succumbed to the inevitable would he be nothing more than a waster? How could he do that to his parents? He couldn't turn their sacrifice into rubbish.

His parents had at least left him with money, a protector, and a godfather. They weren't to be blamed for Sirius' absence in Harry's childhood, and neither, for that matter, could Sirius. His parents had been good people, strong fighters, brave. They thrice defied Voldemort, didn't they? That's what the prophecy said. And even if Harry's father had been less than brilliant as a teen, he'd grown into someone Harry was proud of, someone Harry wanted to emulate. Sirius had called him a loyal friend and brave. Lupin said he'd been daring and fun. Both wizards smiled when they talk of Harry's father. Would Ginny smile when she talked of Harry, when she remembered their time together to others?

Yes, yes she bloody well would! He would make certain she would. He was going to be the best bloody boyfriend she ever had! A new purpose churned inside.

Harry glanced over to the empty blankets beside him. Ron and Hermione should've been there. Where had they gone at this time of night? Snape was still standing guard. Harry wasn't supposed to relieve him until two. He glanced at his watch. Another half hour.

Had something happened? Why didn't they wake him? Harry sat up, and stiffly shoved his feet into his trainers. There was a groan, and then a sob from the bedroom. Harry grabbed his wand, pushed the door open. Ez sat on the floor in the corner of the room with her knees drawn up, and her face buried in them.

When she looked up, the silvery moonlight from the window painted her face a luminescent white. She was crying, sobbing uncontrollably - her breath hitched and throat convulsed. Harry went to her, knelt, brushed her long hair back from her warm, wet cheeks. She had a fever. She was shaking. She looked wild and lost, and Harry's heart twisted for her.

"You all right?" he asked, though clearly she wasn't. "What's happened? Is it the Sever? Is it the traitor Snape? Where are Ron and Hermione?"

She shook her head, dropped her forehead back down to her knees. Her shoulders heaved as she cried.

"It's Charlie, isn't it?" Harry whispered. What else could reduce a witch like Esmerelda to this?

She nodded, looked up at him. Tears spilled over her lashes. Her expression was pure anguish. "Oh…Harry. He's…he's gone."

"No…"

She broke down again, and he ran a soothing hand over her shoulder, over her back. There was nothing he could say, he knew, and tears prickled his own eyes. She was inconsolable.

There was a sound out the small, filthy window, and Harry craned his head up to see out. A flash of ginger in the moon light was all he caught. Was Ron out the back door?

"Ez…I've got to check on Ron and – I've got to tell Ron about his brother. I'll be right back."

He hurried to the open back door, stepped out into the garden, and froze.

Hermione was bent over the stone well, arms outstretched to brace against the far lip of the opening while Ron pounded into her from behind. He held her hips so tight it looked like his fingers were digging into her flesh, and his every thrust slammed her body into the rough, uneven stones. Hermione, eyes closed, head turned toward the cottage, bit her lip in a grimace. Harry's body twitched.

Ron's rhythm faltered. His head dropped back, his mouth hung open. Then, he groaned and curled his chin to his chest. He put his whole body into fucking her. Hermione whimpered, and something in Harry snapped.

"Get off of her, you son of a bitch!" Harry lunged, and just as Ron turned stunned, Harry grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back hard enough for him to stumble over the trousers at his ankles, and fall on his ass.

"What?" It took Ron a moment to find his anger through the shock. "What the bloody hell?" His cock was still huge and hard, and wet. Harry turned away.

Hermione scrambled to pull up her jeans and knickers in one go. "Harry?"

"He was hurting you!"

"No, he wasn't, Harry," Hermione said, more calmly than Harry thought possible. "At least, not in a bad way."

"You're mental!" Ron shouted, as he stood and buttoned his trousers. "I'd never hurt her!"

"That's what I thought when I took her against the wall! I left her with bruises!"

Ron's face went long, and he turned to Hermione. "_WHAT?_"

"Ginny, you idiot! Honestly!" Then she turned to Harry. "I'm fine. Really."

"Ginny? And you knew! He hurt Ginny, and you knew!" Ron shouted at her. His face was flushed dark, as he took a couple of angry steps toward her. "Bloody hell, Hermione! What were we just talking about?"

"Yes, well-"

He cut her off, got in her face. "What else don't I know? What other secrets are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing," she said.

"Now I know everything?" he pushed. "There's nothing else you're keeping from me? Hiding for this one?"

"He's my best friend, Ron," she began.

"And what am I?" he demanded.

"Oh, you're impossible!" she said. "Harry was having a crisis involving your sister, so of course I couldn't run to you about it anymore than he could! It's not like we sit around telling each other secrets all day long!"

"No!" Ron said, jabbing a finger in her face. "That's not good enough! You chose him! You always choose him!"

"Not always," she said tartly. "Obviously."

"And you," Ron said, turning on Harry, "you stay away from me, and stay the hell away from my sister!" Harry could only stare after him as he stomped back toward the house.

"Ron," she called as she went after him. She tugged his arm. "Don't be like this."

"Get off me," he shouted, jerking away. He stormed into the house slamming the door behind him.

"He didn't mean that," Hermione said softly.

"I rather think he did."

"Harry, he's angry. He was angry even before you found us."

"Is that why…why did you let him do you like that? Up the bum? Like a poof or something."

"Like a poof?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "It wasn't up the bum, Harry," she said with an exasperated sigh. "Just, you know, from behind. We'd been fighting, and it's easier to distract him sometimes, than it is to try to win when he's being belligerent. And, sometimes…from behind can be…I don't know…exciting."

They stood in silence for a moment before Hermione said, "Talk to me, Harry."

"No," he said. "It's better for you if I don't."

"That will never be true," she said. "Ron and I will work through this. But I won't stop being your friend just because he's being a prat at the moment."

Harry looked back at the door. "You might have to."

"No. Harry look at me. It's the three of us, like always. Ron's just…he's having a difficult time managing with everything that's happened. He thinks you're changing. He can't see that he and I are changing, too. Everything is different now, and so we're bound to change. We're growing up. We have to change.

"Harry, I know you're still carrying a lot of guilt about what happened between you and Ginny on the stairs, but I don't think it's strictly necessary. I mean, yes, you should've stopped when she asked you to. That was very…male of you, Harry, and I mean that in a bad way. Ginny didn't need that - no witch would - but especially Ginny because of, well, what happened to her."

"I know," Harry said. "You don't have to remind me."

"But Harry, I think I do, because Ginny doesn't dwell on what happened on the stair half as much as you do. She's…well, I don't think 'forgiven you' is the right turn of phrase, but she's moved on. She's past it. As horrible as that night was, I think it's much worse in your head than it ever was for her. She just didn't view it in the same way you did. And…I think…maybe that's why you let Ginny…" She trailed off, but Harry knew what she didn't voice.

"Shag the bloody hell out of me when she had a boyfriend? You can say it. After what I just saw, you should be able to say anything."

She smirked, gave a little chuckle, stared out into the night. "She loves you Harry. Just like I love Ron. It's difficult sometimes, but that doesn't really change how we feel. Not down deep."

"I know."

"You should ask her to go with you again."

"I will. When we get back. She's already broken it off with Ernie."

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Hermione gasped, and slouched in relief. "That will help Ron relax a bit. He's remarkably old-fashioned about that sort of thing."

"Yeah, well…Ginny's not."

"Obviously."

"No, it's-" Harry said, and then paused. Did he really want to trust Hermione with this? Or burden her, as seemed the case?

"It's what? Harry, don't shut down on me. Please."

"Ginny wouldn't…" He closed his eyes. He really shouldn't be talking about this to anyone. But he needed to know, and Hermione was the best person he could think to ask. "She wouldn't let me touch her when we were – _you know_. Or kiss her. Or talk."

After a moment Hermione asked, "What?"

She wasn't going to make him repeat it, was she? "I just can't help but reckon it's not exactly normal."

"You reckon?"

"Why wouldn't she let me kiss her? Or touch her…chest? She used to like that, I thought. When we were back at the Burrow." He rubbed the ache at the corner of his temple. He'd felt so out of control at the Burrow, and now, looking back, it was so much easier then. Ginny hadn't taken up with Ernie. Ron and Hermione were…still Ron and Hermione. Charlie was still alive-

"Oh, no…Charlie!" How had he forgotten?

Pain. White-hot pain shot through his temple and then ripped open the front of his forehead. His scar. His head. The stench brought bile up to burn at the back of his throat. Through it, though, was a curiosity that reminded Harry of Dudley and his matches when they were seven.

_No, no fire, _Harry had said in the memory.

And then Dudley:_ Come on, you midge. It's already scarred. You can't have a scar on top of a scar…or, can you__? __Hold still__!_

And then there was a hand, a monstrous hand, a father's hand. Voldemort and his reek were pushed out, and there was someone else in his head, rummaging through his thoughts as if they were rubbish magazines.

_"Get out!"_

"Make me," Snape smugly cooed.

And Harry did. He imagined a fist, Hagrid's fist, flexing until the fingers went white, and then pushing, punching, throwing Snape back. Harry felt him fall, felt the shock and then anger as Snape realize what had happened. Harry felt the wet grass beneath Snape's hands, and the damp seeping through his robes and trousers. The chill didn't bother Snape. Harry inside his head did.

The realization of what Harry had done hit them both with the same amount of surprise, though Snape's was laced with horror. What didn't he want Harry to find? What was locked inside this dark, cold head? His memories felt like brittle parchment, but they unrolled with only a little coaxing.

"No," Snape bit out. "Not that!"

It was Snape's grandfather standing next to the fireplace, righting the photograph that Hermione discovered.

_"__Don't make this mistake,"_ his grandfather warned. He was tall and thin, like Snape, and had his beaked nose. _"__You're smarter than this. Better than this.__"_

_"__My __choice__ has been made."_ The teenage Snape rolled up his sleeve and his grandfather went chalk white when he saw the Dark Mark. Snape's stomach recoiled from the look of grief in the old wizard's eyes.

_"__You shame me. You shame our family__."_

_"__I'm a half-blood mutt. I couldn't hope to do any more__."_

The punch took Harry by surprise, and he fell backwards to the grass. The ground was hard, it jarred him, and he found himself sprawled back on his elbows. The moonlight on Snape's pale face made him seem almost ghostly. His face was caught between a snarl and disturbed shock as he glared at Harry.

"How do you know how to do that? Is that witch teaching you Legilimency?" Snape practically spat when he referred to Ez.

"I looked into your eyes and saw your soul," Harry said, still swimming in the feeling power and control. For the first time Harry wasn't afraid of the old wizard. "I know what you are."

Snape's dark eyes narrowed. He was unsettled, and Harry loved it.

"Harry?" Hermione was beside him, kneeling, uncertain. "Are you all right? Did something happen to Charlie? Was it Voldemort? You said Charlie's name before you-"

"Charlie's dead," Harry told her. "I've got to tell Ron."

She seemed to crumble beside him. Tears were already pooled in her eyes. "I'll tell him."

Snape was still staring at him, and Harry couldn't resist. "Why did you kill Dumbledore? If you're really not a Death Eater anymore, then why didn't you help him? Those others, they were afraid of you. You could've gotten Dumbledore out of there if you had wanted to."

Snape didn't say a word.

"You gave your word to Draco's mother. I know you did. You told Draco as much. Was it an Unbreakable Vow?"

The traitor's eyes flared with alarm.

"No, I didn't see that memory. I have one of my own," Harry told him. "So, you had to kill Dumbledore or you would die yourself. And, when it was clear Draco wasn't going to live up to his bravado and do the deed, you had to step in and do it for him. That was the vow, wasn't it? You do it, or you die?"

But it had to be more than that, didn't it? How much more? How deep did the secret go? How sinister was the plot? Draco was there to murder Dumbledore, but they must've known Draco would never be able to carry out the deed. That's why Voldemort had sent all his Death Eaters. He had to have known that someone else would be needed for the fatal blow. Draco was a coward.

Harry focused on Snape's eyes and dove at him again, threw his mind into those black, bottomless pits, head first.

"Get out!" Snape shouted. A fist came at Harry, but this time it was little more than a shove. Snape was exhausted, and Harry was powerful with anger.

_Why kill Dumbledore? Did you really hate him so much?_ But the traitor couldn't hear him. Another fist swatted.

The memory was there on top. It crumbled as Harry lifted it. Dumbledore was angry, and speaking in hushed tones. _"You must_,_"_ he was telling the traitor. _"If you are given the chance, you must!"_ Snape shook his head. _"I will have your word, Severus. Your oath, as wizard. You will do what is necessary to keep Harry Potter safe."_

"Stop!" Snape commanded. "Get out!"

The fist couldn't even nudge Harry now, and he watched as the traitor in the memory made his promise. There was reluctance, anger. Harry felt the hatred for Dumbledore he'd always suspected of being there. But admiration, too. Resentment. Kinship. Despair. Loyalty.

"Why did you agree to help me?" Harry asked. He pulled out of Snape's head and stared at him. He looked broken.

"He was dying. My potions would only keep him alive for so long."

"That's not what I asked."

Snape opened his mouth, but nothing more came out. He shook his head, and his limp hair lifted in the light breeze.

Harry blinked at the dizziness forming behind his eyes. Stars in the sky seemed to whirl above him. He was cold, sweating, exhausted beyond belief. It was difficult for him to keep his eyes opened, but he managed long enough to tell Hermione not to worry.

Ron was there, too, and Esmerelda – devastatingly beautiful in her grief. He was lifted, carried in to the cottage.

* * *

Harry slept through to the next afternoon, and woke on the bed with a blanket thrown over him. His brain felt like an over-stuffed parcel, bursting at the seams. The house was still, quiet. Everything ached as he forced himself up off the bed, and to the door. Ez sat at the breakfast table taking one Bountiful Bean at a time out of her bowl, placing it carefully on the table before smashing it with the back of her spoon. A quarter of the tabletop was already covered. But that wasn't what chilled Harry's blood.

Esmerelda's long, dark brown hair was gone, hacked off at the nape of her neck. Her face was pale, and her features looked small and faded without her usual make-up. Her eyes were naked, red and swollen. The sleeves of her robes had been ripped from shoulder to cuff, and hung limply over her arms as she worked. She seemed oblivious to him standing there, watching her. He wondered if she even saw what she was doing.

"Ez?"

Nothing. No response at all.

Hermione sat at the table with her. "Is she mad?" Hermione asked without looking away. "She collapsed earlier, but I can't get her to talk to me. I think she's gone mad."

"Stark raving," Ez said. Her voice was rough.

"You cut your hair," Harry said as softly as he could.

"Mourning," she said. "You Read Snape."

"He couldn't push me out."

"Of course not. He spent every last bit of his energy saving you, and you raped his mind."

A chill went through him, and Harry tried not to listen to what she'd just said. "Ez…" He stepped beside her, placed a hand over her spoon. She looked up as far as the center of his chest. "Ez, you know what he knows now. You're the Secret Keeper. Why did you bring us here?"

"Charlie sent me away. He said he wanted to save me one last time. I told him I wasn't worth saving, but..." A tear rolled down her cheek. "…he made me promise. Charlie…"

Harry sat in the chair beside her, and leaned in close. "Ez, can you tell me…who collected me once my parents were dead?"

"Snape, Snape, Snape, Snape," Ez told him. She pressed her hand to her head. "Hermione, think quietly."

"So…he was there. He saw my parents die? My mum?"

"Yes. And his grandparents. And Dumbledore. You were worth saving," she said with a sad smile. "Not me." She slipped her hand away from Harry and dumped the rest of the bowl of beans on the table. The she slammed the spoon down on the mound. Beans splattered. "I should've died with him. It was my right. And now I'm here. Alone. What the fuck am I going to do? Harry? Harry, what am I going to do?"

"Er…Ez?"

"Do you have your wand?"

"Yes." He held it up for her to see.

"Then, it's time to save yourself." She jumped up, threw the table over, and drew her wand in one smooth move. For a split second Harry thought she was aiming at him.

Then the front door burst open and Ron flew through. "Death Eaters!" he yelled, and then spun around to cast, "_Colloportus! _That should buy us thirty seconds."

The front door exploded.

"Or not," Ron quipped as he ran into the kitchen and grabbed Hermione's wrist. "Out the back!"

Hexes were already being fired, and Ez began to laugh as she volleyed with the first few Death Eaters through the door.

"But we need Snape!" Hermione cried.

The back door slammed open, and the Snape's black form swooped in. "You first, Potter!" Harry didn't even have a chance to object. Snape grabbed him by the back of his collar, and in the next second it felt as if he was being squeezed through a tiny tube, and rolled inside out in the process.

They Apparated just outside the school grounds. The Aurors on guard ran to them, wands drawn. "This is Harry Potter! Protect him with your lives!" Snape ordered, and then was gone with a _pop_.

The sun was bright, and the wind was biting. Harry pulled his robes around him like a cloak. The world around him was oddly silent after the explosion of spells in the cottage. What was taking them so long?

Another _CRACK_ came, and Ron was shoved to the ground. Before Harry could demand to be taken back, Snape Disapparated.

"Bloody fucking wanker!" Ron shouted where Snape had been. "I told you to take her first!"

The Aurors demanded to know who Ron was, and where Snape had gone. Neither Harry nor Ron had the patience to answer their questions.

"Where is he?" Ron muttered, panicky. "He should've been back by now!" He paced in circles, a tight grip around his wand. "All hell broke lose, Harry. They were coming in through the windows. And Esmerelda – she's lost her bleeding mind! She was shooting left and right, no aim at all. No cover. And screaming like a banshee the whole time! And you know, I reckon she was laughing, too. And Hermione-"

Another _POP_, and Snape returned, Hermione's arm firmly in his grasp. She'd been shot in the leg, and it bled thickly down the side of her brown cords. Ron grabbed her almost immediately, swooped her up in his arms, and began to run up to the castle. One of the Aurors hurried after them.

Snape looked at Harry, and there was something in his expression that left Harry uneasy.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head, snarled, and Disapparated again.

Harry waited there for half an hour, but Snape never returned.


	17. Chapter 16 Awakenings

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 16 – Awakenings

Something had happened. Something terrible.

Harry took the stairs two at a time, sprinted down corridor after corridor. He had to tell the Headmistress. The spiral stair to her office didn't move fast enough, and Harry ran up those as well. When he finally stood in front of the Headmistress' desk he was out of breath.

"Merlin's beard, Potter, where did you come from? What's the matter with you?" She stood when he flew in, and looked alarmed as he hunched over his thighs and tried to regain his breath,

"Snape…Esmerelda…didn't come back from Godric's Hollow. We were attacked… Death Eaters. Snape only managed to get me, Hermione and Ron out. He went back for Ez… didn't make it back. I waited. Something's happened."

McGonagall walked around her desk. "Death Eaters? You're all right, Potter?"

"I'm good," he said. "Hermione was hurt, but Ron took her to Madam Pomfrey already. Professor, what are we going to do about Ez? If they Death Eaters have her-"

"I'm aware of the consequences, Potter," McGonagall said crisply. "She was our Secret Keeper. This could be devastating to the Order."

"The Order? They'll torture her, Professor! They'll kill her!"

"Come. Let's find Remus and Professor Tonks. We'll call a meeting. See what can be done."

"A meeting? If something's happened to Snape she could be stuck there," Harry said, trailing the Headmistress out. "She'd be an easy target. We have to get back to Godric's Hollow."

"That's easier said than done, as you well know," she said, and looked at him over the rim of her glasses as they hurried along.

"But we have to! Ez isn't right. She can't defend herself properly. Since Charlie died-"

"Charlie Weasley died?" McGonagall asked, shocked. "Oh, Merlin, no! When? Why wasn't I told?"

They swept purposely into the infirmary, and Harry was shocked to see that the small group gathered around Charlie's bed was smiling. Mrs. Weasley was even laughing.

"There!" she cried. "He did it again!"

Hermione stood next to Ron, her leg bandaged, and Mr. and Mrs. Wesley were seated on the far side of Charlie's bed. Tonks hugged herself behind them, her hair beginning to go pink at the ends again. Percy and Ginny stood there, too, intently watching the patient. And Charlie, not dead at all, was lying in the bed, as still as he was when they'd left, except for the flutter of lash and lid.

"He's waking up," Madam Pomfrey announced. "It's a good sign all around."

"Oh, thank magic!" Mr. Weasley exhaled. Mrs. Weasley hugged his arm, and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

Harry couldn't help but second his sentiment. The relief that washed through him was only tempered by his anxiousness over Ez.

"_Harry__!_" Ginny brightened with a smile just for him. Just seeing her brought a lump to his throat.

"You said he was dead!" This accusation came from Ron.

"Not now," Hermione urged. "Let it be."

"Do you have any idea what you put me through?" Ron accused. He took a few menacing steps toward Harry.

"I'm sorry! I thought…Ez…she said he was gone. I assumed she meant…" Harry tried to remember exactly what had been said. "I think she thought he was dead – but Ron, Ez and Snape never made it back."

"Ez?" This got Tonks' attention, and she hurried over to them. "What happened?"

Harry briefly went through the pertinent events in Godric's Hollow, and brought them all up to speed.

"Merlin's beard!" Mr. Weasley swore. "But what can be done? Death Eaters could've taken them anywhere!"

"I'll fetch Remus," Tonks said. "There's got to be at least one other person in the Order who knows how to get to Godric's Hollow."

"We must act quickly," McGonagall urged. "The Order has never been so precariously placed."

* * *

The first week back from Godric's Hollow was an endless series of Order meetings and speculation, of failed missions to locate Ez and Snape, of ferreting out information about their whereabouts, of frustration - and all while Charlie slowly woke up. He seemed to recognize his parents and Tonks, was able to drink on his own, able to take a few wobbly steps with Ron and Percy under his arms. Madam Pomfrey did an excellent job mending his leg. The thick, red scar would fade in time, and grow less puckered as it finished healing on its own, she told them. Charlie might walk with a limp for the rest of his life, but she was able to spare most of his major nerve bundles, so he would have nearly full sensation once he was recovered.

"Thank the stars!" Mrs. Weasley said over and over. She continued to remain faithful in her bed-side vigil.

Dumbledore's wand hadn't been found, and as Charlie was recovering – albeit slowly – it was assumed that he would once again take up the post when he was able. Meetings were held a Hogwarts, in the Astronomy Tower, where there were no portraits to eavesdrop. Harry, of course, not being Order, wasn't invited to attend. So, he chewed the inside of his cheek as he contemplated what they might be discussing.

Tonks was the first one to storm down the stairs, her hair a spiky fuchsia, and her robes billowing behind her. Lupin was on her heels. "Tonks, wait-"

"I won't hear it, Remus," she said over her shoulder. "They can't just give up on her! I won't do it!"

"There's no where else to look," he called after her. "Tonks! Nymphadora!"

She whirled on him. "She's still out there, Remus! If it was me-"

"Don't ask me that," he snapped. "It's not you! And odds say she's probably already dead."

"No!" She whirled away from him, her somber robes flying up to reveal the blood-red miniskirt beneath.

"Tonks, listen to reason," he pleaded to her back. "We've gone out morning and night since she went missing, followed every possible lead and sighting. She's not out there. I've gone myself more than ten times – and you've gone more than that. We're exhausted. It's inevitable that if we continue like this someone's going to get hurt."

"_She_ could be hurt!"

"Tonks, please. You must consider the inevitable. She was attacked by Death Eaters more than a week ago. Even if she managed to survive that initial battle, they won't keep her alive. You know they won't."

"You don't understand, I've thought she was dead before – Charlie and I both did – and she managed to show up against all odds. She's amazing. She…she just can't be dead." Tonks shook her head. "If she hasn't made it back on her own, it's because she can't. She needs our help."

"I'm sorry," Lupin said with finality. "We simply don't have any more to give."

She lifted her eyes and squarely met his gaze. "You of all people, Remus, should know what it means to give up on a friend."

He flinched. "Esmerelda is not Sirius," he said quietly. "It's not the same thing at all."

"You gave up on him, just like you want me to give up on-"

"I thought he'd _killed_ James and Lily!"

"But you loved him!" Tonks challenged. "How can you ask me to abandon Ez when you know how terrible it is to turn your back-"

"This is _not_ about Sirius, and it's not about _you_, damn you!" Lupin roared. "I could just as easily cite Charlie Weasley-"

"Yes, do!" she shouted. "Charlie will die if we don't get Ez back! I'd be abandoning him, too!"

"No. No, you said she left to break the Bond. It will have been Severed by now, surely."

"There's more than one way to die, Remus."

He did not argue that. Instead, his shoulders slumped, and he offered her his empty palms. "I don't know where else to look. If she's still alive, they're not holding her in Britain."

"Then we'll look outside the country. We can check with the other Order chapters."

Lupin gave her a resigned nod. "Charlie will know how to contact them. Once he's lucid we'll renew our search."

Tears filled Tonks' eyes. "Thanks for that," she said. "I'm…I'm sorry I brought up Sirius. It was wrong."

Lupin glanced at Harry, and then gave Tonks a small smile. "It was. But it's all right."

Harry expected they'd embrace, but instead Tonks walked away. Lupin turned with a sigh and looked out a narrow window on the stair. Then, he took the last few steps down. "All right, Harry. Ask your question. I should've told you before now. Sirius should've told you. But…well…he thought we'd have a lifetime to explain things to you."

Lupin turned, gazed at Harry. "He was afraid, you know. I told him you'd take it in stride, that you were more like your mother than James in many ways, but Sirius was afraid of too much happiness. He said being free from Azkaban, having you in his life…and me…that something was sure to happen to ruin it all. 'Best not tempt fate,' he said. 'Let Harry think of me as his godfather, and his dad's best friend, not some buggering old wizard.'"

"Er…" Harry's brain exploded.

"Yes. I loved him, Harry, and it broke me when he was sent to Azkaban. My world ended. Your father was dead, and Lily, and Peter. Sirius was a murderer – but even worse, he was a traitor. Up was down, in was out. I didn't intentionally abandon him, Harry. Please believe that. I loved him."

Harry found himself nodding. He felt strangely hollow, like he was listening to Lupin from inside a vast cavern where he wasn't quite certain if what he heard was real or only echo.

"When you showed me that map – The Marauder's Map…it had been fifteen years since I'd laid eyes on it. Merlin, the memories that flooded back. The happiest years of my life were spent here at Hogwarts, and it had been so long since I'd allowed myself to reminisce. But then…P. Pettigrew…that name wandering around the map. In that moment the world righted itself, and in doing so, everything that was black was suddenly white again. And everything that was white was instantly an inky, impenetrable black. Sirius was innocent, and _I'd_ been the one who'd betrayed _him_. I cannot tell you, Harry, how that cut me to my very core."

Harry swallowed. "But…what are you telling me? You're with Tonks. Aren't you? What are you on about?"

Lupin gave him a weary look. "Yes, well…she makes me feel young and loved. Everyone has weaknesses, Harry, and she's mine."

"Weakness?"

"Do you really need me to say it aloud?"

"So…then you're…." Sirius was gay? Why had that never even occurred to Harry to ask? "Are you telling me you're gay or…not gay?"

Lupin smiled, wistful. "I suppose Tonks is my one exception."

"I didn't know that…was possible."

"Quite frankly, neither did I. I fought her with everything I had in me, made every excuse I could. And then one day I said what the hell? If she can look past my old, poor, beastly side, maybe I can look past her femininity."

Harry smirked. "She is quite fit."

"Ah…yes. Yes, she is." Lupin turned serious. "She's also right about Esmerelda. The Order is fraying – losing three Secret Keepers in four months has devastated morale – but we can't allow that to defeat us. Charlie will live, and as long as there remains a possibility that Esmerelda is alive, we must strive to find her. We owe it to her, yes, but we also owe it to ourselves."

Lupin took out a kerchief and wiped his face. The full moon was only five nights away.

"Professor…" Harry hesitated. "If it's not too personal…do you love Tonks?"

Lupin's thick brows rose. "Not too personal?" He took so long folding the cloth and tucking it inside his robes that Harry thought his question had been dismissed.

"Sorry, sir," Harry muttered, embarrassed.

"There are many different kinds of love," Lupin said at last. "I love her, yes. But the question you should be asking is: Do I make her happy?"

"And…do you?"

"That I do, Harry. That I do."

* * *

Lupin took over Defense classes, and helped Tonks with the DA. There wasn't even a grumble about his being a werewolf from any of the students as far as Harry could hear. Not that he was particularly paying attention to what his classmates had to say. Harry was far too preoccupied with finding Ez to bother with anything else – besides Ginny.

At night, while Ron and Hermione continued to tear chunks out of each other in their never ending row that had begun before they ever went to Godric's Hollow, Harry and Ginny retreated to the Head Girl's room, and took their time sipping Firewhiskey and undressing each other.

When they were alone there was no hesitation in her expression or actions. She ran her hands over his chest and stomach with sensual admiration, tickled his toes as she pulled off his socks, watched his face with humor in her eyes as she lowered her lips to his cock and kissed him. That was new. She had stroked him to completion before, but never sucked him off, and it was amazing. Her tongue on him was a sensation unlike anything he'd ever experienced. And watching himself disappear between her pink lips, her cheeks hollowed, it was the most incredible thing he'd ever witnessed. All other sexy images would forever be compared to the sight of Ginny going down on him.

He relaxed back on his elbows, knees spread, and watched her do him. She was graceful, energetic. Her breasts swayed as she worked. She giggled when her lips made a slurping sound. He almost came in her mouth.

"Come here," he whispered, and guided her up so he could kiss that mouth. He thrust his tongue against hers, tasted himself. He groaned. "God, Ginny, I almost wish you were a bloke so I could show you how amazing that was."

"I don't have to be a bloke," she said with a wicked grin pressed against his lips. She pulled him down on top of her, pushed her tongue into his mouth, ran her fingers through his hair, and her nails across his scalp.

"Show me how amazing that was," she whispered. She ran her fingers through her own ginger curls. His cock twitched, tightened. "If you want…" Was that doubt in her eyes?

"I want," Harry assured, but feeling less confident with her hesitation. He hadn't done it before, though he had seen Ron work Hermione over, so he had the basic gist. Ron had said they loved to be kissed down there. And, even if it was only half as good as Ginny had just given him, Harry wanted to share that pleasure with her.

He crawled between her legs, and she let her bent knees butterfly out. She was pink and wet, with a heady perfume of sex. He parted her with his thumbs and tried to get his bearings. If _there_ was where he pushed inside her - he rimmed his finger over the slick opening, and was thrilled when she clenched and moaned – then _this_ was where she liked to be touched. He slid his finger over the slippery bump and was rewarded with a gasp. She grasped the blanket and gripped it tight in an effort to keep her hips still. Yes, that was most certainly the right place.

Harry ducked down and ran an experimental tongue flick over that small pebble of flesh. Ginny cried out and bucked against his face.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Never," he said with a grin. Maybe it would be just as good for her after all.

He tickled that scrap of flesh again, and then closed his lips around it. Carefully he suckled, mimicking the act he'd watched her do on him. Her hands were on his head in a flash, her fingers in his hair. She mewled, gasped, and every new tease of his tongue brought another wonderful sound out of her. Her hips moved, and he rode her rhythm with her. He didn't mind the taste of her, or her sexy, smoky scent, but it was the way she wiggled, the sounds she made that turned him on.

He maneuvered one of his hands to keep her open, while the other slid down to his erection. He stroked himself in time with his mouth, and imagined what they must look like; her open and on her back, him with his face buried between her spread legs and his hand pumping his cock. He felt her strain, and he licked faster, sucked harder. She gave a strangled cry, and he knew he'd pushed her over the edge.

With the urgency of a wizard on the brink, Harry rose up and crawled over her. It took nothing hold his erection against her, nothing to sink inside her. She caught him as a wave of pleasure rocked through her, and he had to wait for her body to relax before he could push all the way in. He nipped her breast as he began to move, suckled her throat as their bodies slammed together. She touched his face, held it between her hands, and he looked down into her chocolate eyes.

_I love you_, he thought as he came.

She went stiff below him, and for a moment he thought she was coming again. But when he collapsed over her and he felt her shudder, he knew something was wrong.

"Oh, thank Merlin you're finished." Hermione rushed into the room and practically slammed the door behind her. "I can't believe Ron can be such a…prat!"

"Hermione, not now!" Harry growled.

"He's cruel!" she went on, as if he hadn't said a word. "He hates me!"

Ginny was looking at Harry like she wasn't sure who she was looking at. "What is it?" he whispered to her. "Did I hurt you?"

"You…" A tear escaped her eye and dripped over her cheek to her ear. "You were inside my head." Fear. Stunned, remembered fear.

"I…I was?"

She nodded. "I heard you. In my head. You said you love me." Confusion. Panic.

"I do," he said, not understanding. "You know that I do."

Hermione dropped down on the side of Ginny's bed as if they were all sitting around doing homework.

"_Not now_, Hermione," he said again. She didn't seem to hear him.

She picked up his glass of Firewhiskey and drained the rest of it. It was then that he realized she was crying.

"Get off," Ginny whispered to him. He rolled to one side and let her escape. She pulled his shirt over her head and snatched up her jeans. Fear, confusion, and a single thought, _Not again_.

"Ginny, wait-"

"No," she told him. "Hermione needs her friend…and I need a shower. I'll see you later." She hurried out.

Harry yanked a corner of blanket over his lap. He needed to go after her. Hermione seemed occupied with pouring herself another glass of whiskey, so Harry slipped off the bed and into his jeans. He carefully zipped them up.

"What happened?" he asked as gently as he could. He stared at the door, torn.

"Ron happened!" She slammed the glass down on the small table. "He hates me. I think he's going to break up with me!"

He really didn't have time for this. "He loves you, Hermione."

"Not anymore. He's still furious that I didn't tell him about what happened between you and Ginny. He's irrational. He actually accused me of fancying you. The stupid bugger." Her brows knit and a new round of tears slipped over her lashes. "Maybe he never loved me. Maybe I fancied he did because wanted him to, because I love him so much."

"What? No, you don't believe that."

"He's never told me, Harry. He's never said the words."

"He's said them to me," Harry admitted. This earned him a watery smirk, and when he realized how it sounded, he grinned back. "You know what I mean, cheeky."

"Why would he tell you and not me?"

"Dunno," Harry admitted.

She flopped backward on the bed, threw a hand up over her face, and sobbed.

"Hermione," Harry cooed. "It's going to be all right." When she didn't respond he climbed on the bed next to her. On his side, propped up on an elbow, he smoothed her hair back from her forehead. It tore his heart to see her so beside herself. "Tell me how to fix it."

"You can't," she cried. "I tried, but he pushed me away."

"Then, he's an idiot," Harry said.

"Thank you," she said, and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "You're a good friend."

"Yeah, well, I'm trying. But…Hermione, something's happened with Ginny just now, and I need to see that she's all right."

She sat up, eyes wide. "What's happened?"

"I…I'm not sure," he said, though he had a sneaking suspicion. "But I need to find her."

"Yes, do."

He muttered a, "Thanks," and hurried out the door and down the steps to the Head Girl's loo, halfway between the landing and the bottom of the private stair. The water was running, and steam billowed. When he said her name he heard a muffled sound in the shower. Harry slipped the curtain aside, and discovered Ginny in the process of standing. She wiped at her face.

"You were in my head." Wary acceptance.

"Oh, Ginny. I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to do it. I've only managed it once before on my own, and it was an accident then, too."

"It wasn't…unpleasant. I just…it surprised me. It reminded me…he did it. He was in my head, too. All the time." A queasiness.

"Bloody hell, Ginny, I'm so sorry. Really. And, I didn't see anything. I didn't look at any of your memories. I didn't even realize I was there. I'm sorry."

She waved a dismissive hand at him. "There's nothing I'd hide from you. You know the worst of me already."

"And you know the very worst of me, I'm sad to say."

"It was a fluke, then? You couldn't do it if you tried?" Reluctant interest.

It was an odd question, and Harry wasn't sure what answer she wanted. "I'm not sure. I've never really tried to push in before. But I wouldn't intentionally without permission, I swear."

_No, of course he wouldn't._ It was her thought, and Harry heard it clear as anything.

He froze while she switched off the water. The shower dripped. When she turned to Harry he was once again aware that she was wet, and wore absolutely nothing. He tried not to leer, to gallantly meet her eyes, but her breasts were very alluring as the water droplets curved over them. Pride. He could feel her pride. She liked that he looked.

_He can be so obvious. _

_Oh, bloody Merlin…_

_Harry?_ Her eyes went wide, and she took a step back. Her arms cross over her chest. "You're in my head again?" Violation.

"You're in mine!" he insisted.

"That's not even remotely possible." Irritation.

No. It probably wasn't.

_This feels different_, Ginny thought. _You don't feel like _him_ at all._

_What do I feel like__?_

_Like a warm breeze. Like flying._

Her mind felt different that Ez's, as well, and different than Snape's. Ginny was warm and soft, and her memories were like well-worn cotton across his skin. There was even a floral smell that drifted by as he glanced through the memories on top of them making love - his wild black hair nestled between her freckled thighs.

_Does this scare you?_ he asked.

_No._

But it did. He could feel her heart thump as if it were in his own chest, and the chill of adrenaline, and the fear.

A memory smacked into him. Little Ginny, in her dorm room all alone, and Tom Riddle, stalking towards her laughing, calling her his pretty little puppet.

_Don't look at that._

_I'm not afraid_, he told her_. Don't be afraid._

_But I am. Remember this?_

And another memory came at him, and this time they were in the common room together, and there was a party. Ginny saw Harry and the happiness inside her bubbled over. She ran to him and their arms went around each other. They kissed. Their first kiss. He felt her laugh, and her fear slip in to joy.

_Is this how you remember it?_

_Exactly_, he told her. _Follow me, and I'll show you._

Harry was back in his own mind, though it felt different somehow. Lighter, maybe. Warmer. He shifted his thoughts and remembered that evening after Gryffindor won the Quidditch match, and he had escaped detention with Snape. Ginny was the balm for everything wrong in the world. And when she looked at him, so happy and smiling, Harry thought he might explode with joy. When he kissed her everything else went away.

_This is…can I look about_?

_My mind is your mind_, he glibly thought. _Mind the cobwebs_.

She moved through him, touching everything, leaving thrills of energy in her wake. He hummed with awareness of her, and with arousal. He could feel fingers, even though he knew it was all in his head. Lips. Hands. Skin and air.

She looked at his parents' graves, untended and forgotten by the rest of the wizarding world. He had wanted to find a connection there, but it had just been ground and stone. He didn't belong there any more than he belonged on Privet Drive. He was an orphan, homeless and aimless with only one purpose.

_You're not alone, Harry._

_I should be. I need to be._

_But you don't want to be. I can tell._

_No. I want to be with you._

She was inside him in a way no one had ever been. She felt different, stimulating. He could feel her love for him, and her desire, and then the shock of realization that it mirrored his own.

_I didn't know_, he heard her say.

_I told you I love you._

_And still, I didn't know that you felt what I feel. You're surprised, too. _

_I'm…happy._ It was an inaccurate word to quantify the maelstrom that was burning inside him. Tears choked his throat, it was hard to breath. And suddenly he was kissing her, holding her, pushing her against the wall.

_Not the wall!_ he yelled at himself.

_It's all right,_ she told him. _There's no place else._

She opened his jeans. Her hands were cold as she gripped, stroked.

_Oh, shit_, she gasped. _It feels so bleeding good!_

_I know…_

When they kissed it was hard to tell if it was body or mind, the sensation was so intense that neither seemed a possibility. When he pushed into her they came together, even before they could find a rhythm. It was strong, overwhelming. Harry collapsed, and she fell into his arms.

_This is bleeding brilliant,_ Ginny thought.

His thoughts mirrored hers.

* * *

"You're awfully happy this morning," Hermione observed as Harry downed a plate of seconds at breakfast.

_Tell her,_ Ginny dared, coyly. Harry glanced at her. She smirked.

"Just got a good night's sleep is all," Harry said, which wasn't a lie.

"You don't know anything new about Esmer- Professor Wizmere, do you? Did Tonks and Moody find her?" Hermione asked, hopeful.

"I haven't seen either of them since they left last night." Harry remembered that he was concerned about Ez. How could he feel so good when she was most likely out there being tortured by Death Eaters? He'd allowed himself to be distracted. He should be looking for her now, not enjoying a hot breakfast.

_Easy, tige_r, Ginny counseled. _She might have just flown the coop. We don't know._

_She was taken,_ Harry thought.

_The Order is doing what it can to find her. Missions have gone out every morning and every night since she went missing._

_She could be hurt in Godric's Hollow – no one has gone there to look for her._

_No one's been able to. Pay attention, Potter. Hermione just asked you a question._

"Sorry?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione beside him.

She gave him a funny look, and then stabbed at her fried mushrooms. "I asked if you saw Ron this morning when you got up. He's obviously already been down to breakfast. I can't imagine he'd miss a meal just because he's avoiding me."

"No…I didn't see him."

"He was gone before you got up, then?" she glared at the mushroom she'd speared, and then dropped her fork. "Did he even sleep in the dorm last night?" She was beginning to look a little panicky. "Where would he go?"

"He probably went to see Charlie," Ginny suggested.

Hermione was up and rushing down the aisle toward the door before Ginny had even finished her sentence. "What was that all about?"

"She thinks Ron's going to break it off with her." His eyes followed Hermione out. She was right about one thing, though - it really wasn't like Ron to miss a meal.

"Go with her," Ginny said. "I know you want to."

"I'm concerned about Ron, is all."

_You were looking at her bum._

"I was not!"

Ginny smirked again. _You were._ "Go with her. I'll pop in and see Charlie after class."

"Right." _But I wasn't looking at her bum_.

Harry caught up with Hermione on the Grand Stair. She wiped tears furiously from her cheeks, as she strode up the steps with determination. "I will not let him break up with me."

"Good for you," Harry said.

"That's why he didn't sleep in the dorms last night, isn't it? He was avoiding you because he's going to break it off with me."

"He's been avoiding me since I told him I was shagging Ginny," Harry reminded her. "Maybe it's not what you think. Maybe he offered to sit with Charlie last night so his mum could get some sleep. She's coming unbound sitting with Charlie all the time."

"Yes! He sat with Charlie because he needed an excuse to not sleep in the dorms so you wouldn't talk him out of dumping me! Oh, Harry, I'll die if he breaks it off, I really will!"

He stopped her. "No. No, you won't. You're stronger than that. And if that sorry sod can break it off with you that easily, then he doesn't deserve you. As a sorry sod myself, I speak from experience."

She brushed another tear away. "I tried to…while we were studying last night in the common room…it was late, and so everyone else was in bed, and so I tried to…he likes it when I use my mouth."

Harry's cheeks flared. "You know, you don't have to tell me every little thing."

"But who else can I tell?" she wailed. "He pushed me away and said I was confusing the issue! There was no issue, Harry, we hadn't even been talking! We were just sitting there finishing our Transfiguration homework, and he hadn't talked to me for hours, and even then it was to ask if I had another quill because his nub was dull. He pushed me away, Harry. He's a seventeen year-old boy and he turned down a knob-job!"

"I can't believe you just said 'knob-job.'"

"Pay attention. What am I going to do when he tells me it's over? I can't let him see me cry. I've got to keep it together somehow."

"You could do what Ginny did. Tell him you knew it would come to this, and then keep dating him anyway. What? It worked eventually, didn't it? She and I are dating now."

Hermione's brows rose. "So, you asked her then? You said the words?"

Her question brought him up short. "She told you to say that, didn't she?"

"Harry, you've got to actually ask the question."

"We're dating. We're exclusive. She's my girlfriend and I'm her boyfriend."

"So, then, ask her to go out with you. If she won't say no, make it official."

Obviously that was what Ginny wanted. Brilliant. Now he had to think of a way to ask her so it didn't make him look like he forgot. Or was avoiding it.

Hermione looked back down the corridor toward the infirmary. "How did it go so wrong? I didn't betray him, did I, Harry? What I did, it wasn't wrong, was it?"

"No," Harry told her. "But I can understand, I think, at least partly why he's hurt."

"I know. So can I. That's why it's so difficult. I think, though, if I had to do it over again, I would. You and I are friends, and that shouldn't change because Ron and I are together. Right? I did the right thing."

"You did."

"So, why can't he see that?"

They walked slowly, and Harry felt like he was escorting Hermione to the Tower. She watched the floor slip by, as if she was counting her steps.

They heard Charlie's screams before they even reached the infirmary, and found Ron and Percy trying to pin him to the bed. Madame Pomfrey had a vial of something she was trying to administer, but every time she got near his mouth he knocked her hand back, spilling liquid everywhere.

"We could Stun him," Mrs. Weasley reluctantly suggested.

"You will not!" Madame Pomfrey insisted. "His poor body has gone through enough! A mild sedative is all he needs - if we can get it down him!"

"Mere! Mere!" Charlie called, frantic. "Where's Mere!"

"She's not bloody here!" Ron bit out. "Why does he keep asking?"

"His brain's still waking up," Madame Pomfrey explained. "It'll take a while before he can make sense out of his environment."

"He knows Ez isn't here. He understands that much," Percy said.

"You get on him, and I'll pour the potion down his throat," Ron said to his brother. But Charlie, while shorter than Percy by a head, was twice as strong as both his brothers combined, and neither could get a good enough grip to manage a proper restraint for the other.

"How can I help?" Harry asked, stepping in.

Without even thinking Ron told him to sit on Charlie's chest. Between the three of them, and Hermione to hold his head, Madam Pomfrey managed to get half of a new vial in his mouth before he choked. The other half went down easier. It took some time, but Charlie eventually relaxed down to a miserable murmur.

"Mere…Mere…_Unde sunt? M-am r__ă__t__ă__cic…Mere, v__ă__ rog…_" He continued his litany in Romanian.

Harry climbed off him, a little frightened at the thought of what Charlie would be like when he finally understood that Ez was taken by Death Eaters.

"What is being done about finding Ez?" Harry asked Ron, once the room had settled. "Did Moody find anything last night?"

Ron shook his head. His eyes flittered briefly to Hermione, and then landed heavily on the floor.

"I want to go on the next mission. There's one this morning, right?"

"You're not Order," Ron told him.

"You're not Order either." Hermione raised a hand to his neck, and ran her finger along a thin, red scratch. "You went with them last night, didn't you?"

He ducked away from her reach. It was a small move, but Hermione pulled her hand back as if burned.

"It was just a tree branch," he grumbled. "No big deal. Nothing happened."

"You went without telling me," she said, nearly a whisper.

"I'm not the only one who can keep a secret," he snapped.

"So, you did this to hurt me? You deliberately put yourself in danger so that I would – what? Tell you I'm sorry? Tell you it won't ever happen again?" Hermione's voice rose. "You want me to be a snitch, do you? You want me to be the kind of friend who can't keep a confidence? You want to date someone without integrity? Without loyalty? Someone who will betray her friends so as to not bruise her boyfriend's ego?"

"You're twisting it," Ron insisted.

"And you left this castle last night without even saying good-bye! What if something happened to you? What if they got you like they did Ez?" Her voice broke, and a sob escaped. Hermione put a hand over her mouth, and hurried out of the room.

Ron's stunned gape lingered on the door. "But nothing happened."

"I don't think that was her point," Harry told him.

Ron stuck a finger in his face. "This is all your fault."

"You can tell yourself that if you want, but I wasn't the one who's stopped touching her. She thinks you don't love her anymore. She thinks you want to break up with her."

Ron's brows lowered. "Why would she think that?"

"Ron, why haven't you told her you love her?"

"Why did you shag my sister when she was dating someone else?" This time, Ron met his gaze. "Why are you still shagging her?"

"This isn't about me and Ginny," Harry told him. "Your anger at me shouldn't affect your relationship with Hermione."

"She's my sister!" Ron demanded.

"She's my girlfriend, as well."

Ron shook his head. "You don't get it."

Harry shrugged. "Hermione's walking away right now, crying because she thinks you don't love her, and you're letting her go. What don't I get?"

Ron scowled, and then took off after his girlfriend.


	18. Chapter 17 The Prodigal Child

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 17 – The Prodigal Child

"Shouldn't you be in class?" Madam Pomfrey swept into the infirmary with a tray of potions. She set them on the table next to Charlie's bed.

"I told Mrs. Weasley I'd sit with him while she went home for a bit."

Harry sat on the other side of Charlie's bed in the uncomfortable straight back chair Mrs. Weasley had been practically living in. Charlie was doing better though, and Mrs. Weasley was exhausted to the point of tears, so she finally relented with Harry's gentle nudge to go home and rest. Percy even helped, saying Harry would be excused from Potions that afternoon. It hardly mattered, of course. Harry was farther behind in Potions than any of this other classes, and it was something of a relief that Percy no longer pretended that he actually expected anything further from Harry academically.

"Good, then," Madam Pomfrey said handing Harry a small yellow vial. "You can give him his tonic while I tend to Mr. Creeley." She nodded to the boy a few beds down. Denis waved happily at Harry despite his rather blue complexion. "Just a few drops at a time until it's empty. It's mostly a vitamin and mineral tonic to keep his health up, so you needn't worry if they actually make it down or not."

Madam Pomfrey turned to her other patient. "What is it now, Mr. Creeley? Been poking the chinshin boils again? I thought Mistress Sprout had a word with you about that."

"Mere…" Charlie's eyes opened, but didn't seem to fix on anything. His voice was deep, hoarse. "Mere…"

"Er, no. It's Harry. I've got to give you something to drink." Harry took a whiff from the neck of the bottle. "Sorry, mate." He dropped a few drops between Charlie's open lips. He waited, and Charlie eventually swallowed.

It was like Charlie was talking in his sleep, only his eyes were open. He ate and drank if someone put food to his mouth, and walked if someone held on to him and led him around. But he only talked to Ez – Mere. It bothered Mrs. Weasley. She repeatedly told him that Ez had left him, and that his mum never would.

"I don't know what you see in that witch," Mrs. Weasley had said on several occasions. "Not very pretty, and as fickle as the wind. You can do so much better, Charlie lamb. You're such a good-looking boy. No, don't you fret yourself about that one. Your mum's here."

It was as if she was talking to stone.

"_Imi pare rau_…Mere, _undi voi_? _Ajtour_…."

Harry snuck in another few drops. The Romanian broke out every so often, and was sometimes confused with English.

"_Am nevoie de ajutorul ta_…." Charlie's eyes shot purposely to the door, and Harry held his breath. "Mere?"

Was she there? Had Lupin and Shacklebolt found her? Harry went to the door half expecting to find Tonks dragging Ez in with a huge smile of relief on her face, but the corridor was empty.

Charlie was already muttering in Romanian again. He kicked his blankets to the ground.

* * *

Harry left the infirmary that night feeling petulant. Hours of sitting beside Charlie, thinking of everything that he'd suffered, not knowing if Ez was even alive, and being completely useless in finding her colored everything.

As Harry rounded the corner he caught sight of Ginny, and he couldn't help but reach out to her.

_Oh, Ginny, you're a sight_.

_Is everything all right__?_ _Harry__?_

"Charlie's sleeping. Everything's all right."

"Then what is it?" she asked. "I was just going to visit him. How's Mum?"

"Tired," Harry told her. "She went back to the Burrow for a bit, but I don't think she slept."

_You look tired, too_. She touched his cheek. _You haven't shaved_.

Harry gave a self-depreciating chuckle. _Yeah, it's been four days_. _Nice of you to finally notice._

"I reckon I like it." She wore a coy grin.

"Yeah?" He reached for her waist.

_Don't even think it, Potter. You need some rest, and I need to see my brother. _"But walk with me," she said, holding out a hand for him to take. "I haven't seen you all day."

Just walking with Ginny, holding her hand, helped lift his mood. They went down to the second floor and strolled along the corridor, and then to the first. They passed the large, arched windows and looked out over the Black Lake. The water was still as glass, and the mountains and trees surrounding it were blanketed with a fresh layer of white.

"First snow of the season," Ginny said, wistfully. "I hate not being able to leave the castle. I miss our Hogsmeade trips."

_And Quidditch._

_Or even just flying._

_Yeah_, Harry agreed.

"You're thinking about Ez again," Ginny said quietly, gazing out over the grounds. "When did you get so attached to her?"

Harry blinked at her. "I don't fancy Ez. She's ancient."

"I never said you did," Ginny told him. "I just didn't realize you'd become such fast friends."

"Well, we're not. Not really. It's just…I don't know. I've been inside her head, and she's been in mine. And she's been helping me. Protecting me…"

"You're not responsible for her, Harry."

"She was there – in Godric's Hollow - because of me."

"She was there because she didn't want to be here with Charlie." There was anger in her voice, and a flash of resentment in her mind. _Charlie loves her, and she left_-

"Come on, Gin. It's hard for her-"

"It's hard for all of us," Ginny snapped. "Mum's just about killing herself over him, and Ron – he's taking it very hard."

"And you?" Harry asked.

_It hurts. I don't know him half as much as I should. Him and Bill, they don't feel like brothers, really. More like cousins, or friends of the family_. She sighed. "I want to know him better, Harry."

Percy caught Harry's attention as he crossed the corridor in front of them. "Merlin's beard! That was never…" Harry's heart pounded. Was it?

"Harry? What is it?"

"_Percy_," he swore, and then hurried to the corner. "Did you see who was with him?"

"With Percy?"

Harry caught sight of them just as they disappeared into Percy's room. Long, dark hair, and about Esmerelda's height. "No. It can't be her."

"Who?" Ginny asked, and then Harry felt her pick up that latest memory, still unfinished in his mind. "Is it really her, Harry? Did they find her?"

Charlie had seemed so sure that she was there when Harry was in the infirmary with him. Maybe it was her. Maybe he could sense her in the castle, or maybe she'd been about to walk through the door, and someone stopped her.

"But why wouldn't she go to Charlie?" he asked. "Surely Percy told her Charlie is waking up. She'd want to see him, wouldn't she?"

"Unless Mum is right about her."

"Or, she still thinks he's dead," Harry defended. Percy could've lied, though Harry didn't see the point. Any lie he told would be short-lived.

"Just what is she to Percy, anyway?" Ginny asked, suspicious.

"Tonks said they're friends," Harry told her, but the memory he had of Percy and Ez embracing in the corridor bubbled angrily up, and he felt Ginny gasp.

"What the bloody hell? That trollop!"

_It's not what it looks like,_ Harry thought to her. _She was upset. He was consoling her_. _I think._

"Well, what's he doing to her in his quarters now? Consoling? Shit." She stomped to the door, and despite Harry's pleas to stop, she pounded her fist against the wood.

"Percy! I know you're in there!"

"Ginny, this isn't a good-"

"No? He's in there consorting with that cow while Charlie's lying the infirmary! Harry, you better walk away, because I've got some other ideas you're not going to like, either." She pulled out her wand and aimed it at the door.

"Bloody – Ginny, what are you going to do?"

She cast a Knocking Spell. "Stand back, Potter. This is about to get ugly."

Harry pulled out his own wand, though he didn't know what he was going to do with it. "Ginny, no-"

The door swung open and an irritated Percy poked his head out. He had deep red lipstick kissed over his mouth, and trailing the side of his narrow jaw, and down his neck.

"What?" he demanded, and then realized it was Ginny. "What is it? Has something happened? Is it Charlie?"

"Don't play that you actually care!" She forced the door completely open and aimed her wand. And then hesitated.

It wasn't Ez. She was the right height and coloring, but she was most certainly a different girl; thinner and younger. And, if Harry remembered correctly she was –

"Penny Clearwater?" Ginny gasped.

"You mustn't tell anyone," Percy said at once. His spine was as straight as a broomstick, and he glared down at her with his professor's stance.

"That you've got a bird in your quarters?" Ginny challenged.

"That I've got my wife in my quarters," Percy ground out.

"Wife?" _Bloody hell__!_ _Do Mum and Dad know__?_ "You're married?" _He can't be married, he just can't! He married and didn't tell us__?_ _I have a sister__?_ _How could he not tell us__?_ _I've been sitting in his bloody class all year, and he's _married_?_ She glanced down at his ring-less left hand.

"It's none of your concern," Percy began.

"Are you mad? _Of course_ it's my concern! You're my bleeding brother, you lousy sod!" Ginny was going very red now, and tears began to well in her eyes. Harry felt her indignation, her anger and sense of betrayal as if they were his own. To his horror, his own vision blurred, and he had to quickly brush the moisture away before it had a chance to fall.

"Er…Percy…perhaps you should invite them in. This isn't a conversation to be had with a door open." Penelope – Penny - looked much like Harry remembered, though his recollection of her was extremely limited. She and Percy would've graduated together in his third year – the year Harry met Sirius – so it was no wonder he hadn't paid that much attention to Percy and his girlfriend. She had been his girlfriend then, hadn't she? Harry seemed to think she had.

"Yes, yes," Percy hastily agreed. "Come in before someone hears your shrieking."

"Why are you keeping this a secret?" Harry demanded, no longer able to contain himself or Ginny's swell of emotion inside him.

Percy glared at him. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Do you really hate us that much?" Ginny cried. Harry felt her anger melt into miserable understanding. "I know you don't get on with Mum and Dad anymore, but I thought…you've been so good with Charlie, and Mum's been here so much, I know you've talked. I thought maybe you were trying to make it right."

"I haven't got anything to make right," Percy bit out. "I've done nothing wrong."

"Yeah," Ginny said stepping away from him. "Of course not." She gave Penny a parting glance, and then said a small, "Congratulations," as she hurried down the corridor.

Percy called after her. "Not a word, Genevera! You hear me?"

Ginny was fast. It took Harry three flights of stairs to catch up with her. _I don't want to talk about it_, she thought at him. _I need to be alone for a while._

_Percy's a prat_, Harry reminded. _You've always known that. This shouldn't surprise you._

_He's my _brother_!_ _I can't expect you to understand._

_You forget I'm inside your head, Ginny. I know what you're feeling. I feel it, too._

_It's not the same,_ she said, stepping through the portrait hole. _You don't have the history with him. You don't understand what it means that he's gone and done this, and he's not letting on._

Harry grabbed her arm. "Then explain it to me!"

She glared down at his hand, and Harry quickly removed it. "How would you feel if you found out that Ron and Hermione were secretly married?"

"Ron and Hermione are married?" It was Seamus sitting at the table behind the couch. He and Dean, their wizard's chess game forgotten, gaped at Ginny.

"Ron's a prat right now, right? But he's still your best mate," Ginny said. "And he's gone and done something so…"

"I'd feel awful," Harry said. "Just like you do."

"Harry, I'm not running from this, or you. I just…" _I need some time to sort things out._

_Are you going to tell your parents? Ron?_

_No…not yet. _

_Ron will have kittens if he finds out you knew and didn't tell him._

_Are you going to tell him?_ Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head. "I'll probably regret it."

She went up the stairs then, and he let her go.

* * *

Harry didn't go up to see Ginny that night, giving her the space and distance she asked for. It was difficult, though. Every few minutes he found himself gazing up the stairs. She was like an itch that he couldn't ignore, and he felt himself growing more agitated as he tried to sit still on the couch in the common room.

"Bloody Potions," he grumbled.

He had seven parchments in front of him, none of which were even started, and all of which had been due weeks before. Harry didn't understand why Hermione was making him do all the work. It wasn't like he needed his N.E.W.T.s anymore. He certainly wouldn't be coming back to Hogwarts again, and it wasn't going to be looking for work once he left. It seemed pointless. And frustrating.

"Bloody Percy."

There were some third years working at the round table against the wall, and a couple of first years in the alcove under the stairs who whispered and giggled incessantly.

"Bloody first years."

His mood grew darker as the common room began to empty, and the urge to see Ginny again screamed in his bones, knotted his muscles, made his heart thump. He craved her.

A large body dropped down on the couch next to him, and Harry looked over to see Ron not looking at him.

"Homework, yeah?" Ron muttered.

"Yeah."

"You've got a helluva lot there."

"Yeah."

"Well…here." He pulled a couple of rolls of parchment out of his pocket. "Copy them over. And don't tell Hermione." They were Potions and Defense essays, and the Transfiguration homework that wasn't due until tomorrow morning. Harry was stunned.

"I've got to sit up with Charlie tonight," Ron said with a sigh. "Got to give Mum a break. Dad says Charlie's likely to be the death of her."

"I can go," Harry offered. "I'll be up most of the night getting through this bloody work."

Ron glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "That's all right. I'll do it."

"Well, then…thanks for the help," Harry said.

Ron nodded as he left.

* * *

_The dorm room was cold and dark, and Harry was so very tired. No sleep. He couldn't let his guard down until the others came up to bed. It was safer with the others. But he couldn't wait for them; they'd see the marks. The bruises and cuts. They'd know. He put on his dressing gown, put on socks to cover the marks on his ankles and feet. No one could know. No one could help._

_A cold breeze filtered through the room, but the windows and door were shut. Harry froze, couldn't breathe, couldn't think beyond the panic coursing through him. _He's here._ There was no where to run. A heavy hand on his shoulder, a deep inhale behind his ear. Terror trembled in Harry. He couldn't scream._

My pretty puppet,_ the voice inside his head said. _No one even notices, do they? How you've distanced yourself from them? Have you even spoken to a soul since I came to you last?

_Not a soul. And no one noticed._

_Hands on his waist; hands untying the cloth belt. Hot breath on his neck. A body pressing up behind him. Harry knew what that was poking against his bum, and he whimpered. The dressing gown fell to the floor. Hands reached down, smoothed over Harry's flat chest, flat belly._

Take off your knickers,_ the voice commanded. Harry couldn't stop himself. His hands pulled up his gown and obeyed. A hot, wet tongue licked the side of his cheek. _Good puppet.

_And then, he was thrown across the room – he hit the wall hard. Skull and shoulder on stone. He fell to the floor, only to be picked up by the front of his gown, and tossed on the bed._

Open your legs_, said the voice. Harry's legs flew open, even though he tried to keep them together. Tom Riddle smiled down as he crawled on the bed unzipping his trousers, laughed as he shoved Ginny's gown up and over her head, and his body dropped so heavy on hers that she couldn't breathe… _

_Ginny, not Harry. This was Ginny's nightmare._

"_Ginny_!" Harry sat straight up in bed, his chest on fire, tears streaming down his face. Ron was on his feet, wand pointed, though he was still half a sleep. Neville and Dean blinked sleepily, nervously from beneath their blankets. They were used to Harry's dreams by now.

"What? Ginny?" Ron croaked.

Harry threw back his blankets, and raced up the Head Girl's stair. Threw open Hermione's door and found her on her knees in Ginny's bed trying to shake her screaming friend awake. Harry didn't wait to wake her, he scooped her shoulders up and hugged her against him.

"I'm here. It's all right, Ginny. Wake up, luv. You're safe."

She didn't struggle against him, but wrapped her arms tight around his neck. Her screams broke into sobs, and he felt her tears hot against his neck.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked, somewhere behind Harry. "You're dreaming her dreams now?"

"Harry?" Hermione hesitantly said. "That wasn't…Voldemort wasn't trying to get through to you, was he?"

"Volde-" Ron nearly choked. "Why the bloody hell are you in her dreams, Harry?"

"Give us a minute, will you?"

"But if Voldemort-" Hermione insisted.

"It wasn't him! It was a nightmare. It was bloody awful," Harry told her. "Ginny, I'm so-"

"No," she whimpered, and then pulled away from him. She wiped her eyes on the backs of her hands. "Don't say it. Don't even think it. In fact, don't think anything at all."

"Do you want me to leave?"

_It doesn't really matter, does it? When you leave you're still here._

"Yeah," he said, studying Ginny's troubled face. She needed some time alone again. "Should I fetch you a sleeping draught from Madam Pomfrey?"

"No." _I've_ _got some that Mum sent with me at the beginning of school. Besides, the Aurors patrolling the corridors are probably sick of you trying to get out of the Tower after curfew._

Harry gave her the smile she was fishing for. "All right, then. You know where I am…if you need me. Just call."

"How long?" Ron asked. He followed Harry out of a room, like a cat stalking a mouse.

"How long have you been acting like a prat?" Harry was upset and tired, and wasn't in the mood for Ron's surly interrogation. He thought they'd moved past that.

"How long have you been Reading her?"

"Not bleeding long, all right? And it's not Reading. Not exactly. I don't know what it is."

Ron put a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder to stop him, but the hand from Ginny's nightmare flashed into his mind and, with it, the panic and dread. Harry threw himself back against the stair wall, and drew his shaking wand. Ron immediately backed up a couple steps.

"What the – what's wrong with you? You've gone mental!"

Harry tried to relax, forced himself to lower his wand. "Sorry. It's that bloody dream."

"That bad, was it?"

"The worst, mate. The absolute worst."

"It was Ginny's dream, was it? Of…Riddle?"

"Yeah."

"Does she have them often?"

"No. Dunno. Merlin, I hope not."

Ron glared at the steps for a moment, and seemed to reach some sort of decision. "Will you be able to sleep now?"

"I doubt it. But I've got Defense homework still."

"Yeah, me too," Ron said.

"You don't have to-"

"I'll just get my books," Ron said, and he hurried down the stairs before Harry could say another word.

* * *

The four of them went to see Charlie after breakfast that next morning. Mrs. Weasley sat beside him in her chair, her knitting on her lap, looking like death warmed up.

"Brought you a crumpet," Ron said to his mum with a kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you, Ronnie."

Ginny took her brother's hand. "Wake up, you great lump, so Mum can get a proper rest." She said it was great affection, and a small smile on her lovely lips.

"Mere?" he asked. "Where's Mere?"

"He asks for her all the time," Mrs. Weasley complained.

A rush of Aurors came into the room, and Harry's heart leapt when he saw Ez was with them. He couldn't believe his eyes, and he blinked a couple of times before rushing over to her. She was pale, her face filthy with grime and dried blood, and her short hair stuck out every which way. Her robes were gone, and all she wore was a long, filthy, tattered skirt and a loose, bloody blouse. She limped, and Harry realized she only had one boot. The dark circles around her eyes, and the wild look she gave Harry scared him.

"You're all right," she said, and grabbed him in a rough embrace. Then she held his head. "T-tell me you're all r-right."

"I'm all right," Harry assured her. "Are you?"

But her gaze was already caught by the patient across the room. Her eyes watered, and she gasped as her knees gave out. Harry caught her, and Ginny was right there, helping him to get Ez on to one of the beds. But Ez pulled away from them, scrambled to her feet, and half-ran, half-crawled to Charlie's bed. When she got there, though, she pulled up short and just sat on her heels, and stared.

"He's alive? _Ch-ch-charlie?_"

"Mere," he whimpered, reached for her. "Mere." She stared at his hand. Tears filled her eyes.

"Aren't you going to touch him? At the very least hold his hand!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"I-I…I-I can't."

"_Imi pare rau_…Mere, _undi voi__?_"

"What do you mean, you can't?" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. "He's been bloody asking for you non-stop for weeks!"

"Mum," Ron cautioned. "She's hurt."

"And so is my son! Hold his bloody hand!"

"I c-can't. "

"What's he saying?" Harry asked.

_"Mere, undi voi__?"_

"Where are y-you?" she translated.

_"__Imi pare rau__."_

"I'm s-s-s-sorry."

_"M-am rătăcit…"_

"I-I'm lost."

_"Ta iubesc…"_

Hugging herself, Ez began to sob.


	19. Chapter 18 Harry, the Secret Teller

Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 18 – Harry, the Secret Teller

News of Esmerelda's return spread like wildfire through the school. Once the Aurors left the infirmary, it wasn't long before Tonks and then Percy ran in. Both were relieved and hugged Ez, though when Percy embraced her, his mother gave a snort of disgust. Either Percy didn't notice, or he didn't care, because he kissed her forehead, too.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Tonks asked Ez, who now sat on the bed next to Charlie's. She looked lost, dazed as she shook her head.

"Who found you?" Tonks pressed. "We looked everywhere for you. Everywhere."

"You c-couldn't f-find us," she said, staring at Charlie. "No one could. We were l-lost. S-s-snape s-saved my l-l-l-l-l-l-life."

Percy and Tonks exchanged worried looks, and then Percy knelt in front of Esmerelda to school her gaze from Charlie's immobile form to his face. She seemed to have trouble focusing.

"Ez?" he said gently. "Where's Snape now?" She closed her eyes and shook her head. The finality of this gesture darkened Percy's face, and he cleared his throat as he stood. "Right. Perhaps we should take you to St. Mungo's."

She shook her head. "It's not safe…S-s-saint Mungo's. I'm f-fine."

"You're stuttering," he said, a little less kindly now. Percy was worried. So was Harry.

"Yeah. F-funny, eh?"

"Not really, no."

She finally looked at him, and seemed to really see him. "It's been a helluva week. They s-s-said they had Harry. We thought th-th-they had Harry. We had to go after them, and Snape…he's-"

"Mere," Charlie murmured.

And once again Ez was lost to Charlie, even though she sat a bed away from him, wrapped in a blanket.

"You went after the Death Eaters," Tonks prompted. "They said they had Harry, so you and Snape went after them…and?"

Ez motion to Charlie with her chin. "Will he live?"

"Yes," Tonks told her. "He's coming out of his coma."

Charlie was still muttering in a mix of English and Romanian, and Ez's name was every third word out of his mouth.

"How long has he been l-like this?" she asked. The question seemed to physically cost her.

"Couple of days," Tonks told her.

"Is he in pain? His l-l-leg?"

"Charlie Weasley will be good as new in a couple of weeks," Madam Pomfrey assured as she emerged from her office. "You on the other hand need tending to."

Ez stood to protest and promptly collapsed. Tonks caught her, and she and Percy maneuvered Ez down into the bed she'd been sitting on.

"No…it's all right. I j-just haven't eaten. I n-need to eat."

"Let Madam Pomfrey look you over," Percy urged.

"N-no…"

A tug on Harry's sleeve, and Ginny directed his attention to Charlie, who blinked up at the ceiling with something like recognition. He swallowed, and turned his head. "Mum?"

Mrs. Weasley nearly jumped out of her chair. Her knitting fell to the ground in her rush to grab Charlie's hand. "Yes, I'm here!"

"Is this…Hogwarts?"

"Oh, yes, darling!" There were tears in her eyes, and a smile as wide as Harry had ever seen on her red face. "You're at Hogwarts. You're going to be fine now, so don't worry yourself."

"Mum?"

"Yes, Charlie."

"Mum?"

"I'm right here, dear."

"Mum?"

Her smile faltered. "Yes, Charlie, luv. I'm your mum."

Madam Pomfrey, who had hurried over to Ez, said quickly over her shoulder, "Don't let that bother you, Mrs. Weasley. He's not casting straight quite yet. Give him another day or two to get his thoughts in proper order."

Mrs. Weasley nodded to her, and patted Charlie's hand. "You rest up, dear. Gather your strength."

"Mum?"

"We need to call an Order meeting." This came from Tonks who now stood, arms crossed, surveying the room. "Hermione, I trust you can alert Professor McGonagall to Ez's return?"

"Of course."

"And find Remus," Tonks added. "He'll be relieved."

"He's going to b-be all right, then? Ch-charlie?" Ez asked. Fear and hope mixed, transformed her face, aged her before Harry's eyes. "Really?" She was on her side on the cot, clinging to the blanket she'd been given as if it were the only thing holding her together.

"Nymphadora, I need your assistance," Madam Pomfrey said, and while she was still hunched over Ez, the healer raised her wand and conjured privacy curtains to box them in - and box Percy out at the last second. His mum huffed, satisfied.

"I'm worried about a friend," he crisply defended.

"I have eyes," Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"Then use them," he said, and stormed out. Mrs. Weasley scowled at her knitting, and picked it up only to shove it into the carpetbag beside her chair.

_We should tell her,_ Ginny thought. _It's not right that he's kept Penny a secret. She's Mum's daughter-in-law_. _She's family. __Why would he keep her a secret_?

_I don't know. Maybe there's some reason._

_You mean other than he's a prat_?

_What if they had to get married_? Harry thought.

_You mean...preggars? Do you really think she might be?_

_Bloody hell, Ginny. I don't know._

_But if she is…then Mum's going to be a grandmum! She should know! And why wouldn't he tell? Mum would understand that._

_Maybe Percy's just a prat._

_Well, then, we should tell._

_If you want,_ Harry told her. _But tell Ron, too._

_You're no help._

_I'm worried about Ez. They've been back there a long time, haven't they?_

"Oi, Tonks," Ginny called. "Is she all right?"

"I'm fine," was Ez's quiet response. "G-go away."

Tonks poked her head out from behind the curtain. She didn't look overly worried, and Harry relaxed a bit. "Could one of you fetch a spot of tea? Sandwiches? Biscuits?"

"And chocolate!" Ez added.

_She sounds all right to me, _Ginny thought smartly, and then said aloud, "I'll get that, then."

"Hermione?" Tonks said. "You still here, are you?"

"Er…I'll just go fetch the Headmistress."

Ron nodded. "I'll stay with Mum."

Harry, jobless, headed out with Ginny.

* * *

Potions the next day was…odd. Percy alternated between being a total berk, to almost nice. Even Ron noticed and gave Harry a questioning look. Harry didn't know what to make of it, so he shrugged and tried to focus on the potion in front of him, which was difficult because Ernie kept acting as if he was going to say something, and then didn't. And, as it was most likely to be about Ginny, Harry didn't press him. Instead, he kept his face inside his book, feigning more concentration than he possessed.

His mind kept wandering to the tall, thin figure at the front of the class. Percy was an enigma Harry wasn't sure he cared to solve. He _liked_ disliking Percy. It was easy to resent him for not appreciating how lucky he was to not only to have parents like his, but to have parents at all. And anyway, his parents had been right, Voldemort had returned. There was no denying it now. So, why hadn't Percy admitted his error and made up with his family? Why did he continue to push them away? Why did he deny them his new wife?

It went father than that, though, didn't it? It was more than a hidden marriage. Percy wasn't forthcoming about anything in his life. Not Penny, not his teaching position at Hogwarts, and certainly not Ez. His mum had made it clear that she disapproved, and Percy didn't seem to care – or at least, he didn't care enough to explain. It would've been so easy for him to tell his mum that he'd dated Ez for a while, and now they were just good friends, but he chose not to. Was he punishing her? Harry wanted to say yes, but no one else around her had seen fit to set her right, either. And that included Harry.

Why was he keeping these secrets for Percy? What loyalty did Harry have to him? He wasn't even a very good Potions professor. Mostly, he sat at the front of the class much like Snape had done, and glowered over the students as they tried to decipher both his handwriting on the board behind him and the cryptic _Advanced Potion Making Techniques, Level Seven_, that incorrectly assumed that everything from _Level Six_ had been completely absorbed by the students using it.

Or, maybe the question was, why did Percy feel that he needed to keep Penny a secret? Ez seemed quick to defend him, and even though Ron still dismissed her as mental, Harry wasn't quite so quick to follow any longer. She was unstable, of course, but there was method in her madness. She said she knew Percy better than Harry did, and he had no doubt of that. Perhaps there was more to his story than Harry had ever considered.

And, perhaps, more than he really wanted to now. Harry _liked_ hating him, after all.

"Potter," Ernie whispered, startling Harry out of his thoughts.

"Oh. Sorry." He finished dumping the frog's eyes into their cauldron. "What's next?"

"I've been wondering about…how is Ginny?"

"Oh." Harry knew this was coming. Ever since he'd come back from Godric's Hollow and stopped hiding his relationship with Ginny, Ernie was bound to ask about it. Harry wondered what had taken him so long.

"I only ask, really, because I can see there's something, well, distracting her, but when I ask, all she ever says is, 'I'm good,' or 'All's well.'"

"All is well," Harry said. "When do you see her, again?"

"I thought, perhaps, it was her brother that's got her bothered, but now that everyone knows he's gotten himself married-"

"What?" Harry looked around to see if they'd been overheard. Ron and Hermione were still working their way through their Potion recipe, and they were the closest to Harry. "How did you find out about that?"

Ernie's coiffed brows rose. "The whole school knows. Seamus practically took out an advertisement in the_ Prophet_."

"Seamus? But…how would he know?"

"Really?" Ernie asked. "He says he got it from you. And as near as he can figure, Ron must've gotten Hermione in the family way this summer – everyone knows they're shagging like rabbits now up in that Head Girl's room of hers-"

"You shut it!" Harry growled, as realization bloomed. "You don't know a thing about it! Ron and Hermione are not married, and they most certainly aren't going to have a baby!"

Ernie ducked his head, and had the good-sense to look chastised. "Sorry, there. I forgot they're mates of yours."

"You're damn right they are," Harry told him. "And I know them a bit better than Seamus, I reckon!"

"Yeah," Ernie said. "All right."

But Harry couldn't let it go as easily as Ernie did. Seamus was a bloody gossip, and Ron was his dorm mate. Did he think Ron wouldn't find out what he was saying about him? Ron was going to pound Seamus when he found out, right after Harry pounded Seamus.

Harry glanced back at his friends. Yes, Hermione had vaguely confided that they were once again "snogging and, well, you know," but she'd been a lot less forthcoming than she usually was, and didn't seem very happy about it. When Harry had asked if everything was all right, she'd vaguely said that "it will be." Harry didn't know what that meant, but it hadn't felt right to press her.

Class ended and Ernie helped Harry pack up their ingredients. The cauldron was left to cook away until next time.

"So…Potter. I'm sorry about what I said." Ernie followed him out of the room.

"Yeah, all right."

"But really, is Ginny good? I know we're not dating anymore, but we're friends, and I'm concerned."

Harry glanced at him, torn. He couldn't really blame Ernie for being concerned. He was, as well. "She's having nightmares."

"About what?"

"Just…stuff. Things from a while ago."

Ernie nodded. "The Department of Mysteries? She didn't mention it much at all, but I know it still bothers her."

"Yeah?" Harry asked. He hadn't come across that. Harry wondered what else Ernie knew.

"I don't suppose there's much I can do, but if you think of anything-"

"Thanks," Harry said. "I'll let you know."

"Right, then. Thanks." He headed down the corridor, and then stopped short. "Oh, and Potter? I'm glad you've finally got your head out of your arse." He gave Harry a broad smile. "Ginny's fantastic."

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

* * *

Sweating and winded, Harry hit the floor hard. His shoulder crunched, but it was his knee that burst into pain. He grabbed for his leg, and his wand went flying. "_Petrificus Totalus__!_" Harry's body went rod stiff, and his knee exploded in agony as it was forced straight. He couldn't scream, but he could breathe, and his chest heaved.

_Harry!_ He could feel Ginny's panic. _Harry, what's happening?_

_It's nothing,_ he told her. _Ez is-_

"What the fuck?" Ez bent down and frowned at him. "Who's that?"

_Oh, bloody hell,_ Harry thought.

_Bloody hell is right,_ Ez snapped. _Ginny! Is that you?_

_Er…_

"Of c-c-course it is!" Ez jumped up and whirled around. She threw her hands up in the air. "What were you th-th-thinking, P-potter?"

_She knows, _Ginny thought.

_You think_?

"What the _fuck_ had been g-going on around here?" Ez yelled. "Potter, I had your w-w-word that you wouldn't use Legilimency on her. Your _word__!_" She waved her wand at him, to unfreeze him, and he sat up, cradling his aching knee.

"How long?" Ez demanded, now gone from his head.

"How long what?"

"How l-long has it been since you fucked her while you were in her mind?"

_Who the bloody hell does she think she is_? Ginny asked. _That's none of her bloody business!_

_This could be important_, Harry told her. _Maybe she can help._

_I don't want her help. I hate her_. _She hasn't been back to see Charlie once since she got back_. _Mum's right about her_.

"You're talking to her now, aren't you? D-damn it, Harry! Look at me! How fucking l-long has it been?"

"Since Godric's Hollow," Harry admitted.

"Can you p-push her out?"

"You know I can't."

Ez sighed, and called one of the chairs to her with an angry wave of her wand. She sat down heavily, and leaned over her knees with her face in her hands. "D-do you even know what it is?"

"Well, Hermione has this book-"

"Oh, fuck," Ez groaned.

"What? She's been trying to help!"

"Don't tell me. _The L-legiliman's Guide to Legilimency_?"

"_Legilimency: The Reason We Have Occlumency_," Harry told her.

"Oh," she said, flatly. "Even b-better. Shall I dispel some of the myths that particular author passes as fact? Like the bond between Legilimens and their _v-v-v-v-victim_ can't be severed. That wizard's a squib. What the hell would he know about it?"

"It can? I've tried everything I could think of. And Ginny, too." Though, not quite as enthusiastically.

_We're not breaking the Bond._

_Let's just hear her out,_ Harry schooled. He felt Ginny huff.

"N-n-no, she can't do anything on her side. I mean, I haven't Read her, but my guess, if Ch-ch-charlie's anything to go on, that she has next to no L-legilimency ability. That sort of thing tends to run in families. Not that it would m-make things any easier if she did."

The door opened, and Ginny peaked inside. _Don't be angry. I was worried about you._

_I'm fine, _he told her.

_Your knee still hurts._ She limped in the room, and dropped down beside Harry on the floor.

_Your knee hurts, as well?_ he asked.

_Why not? When you come, I feel it. Why would this be any different?_

"When Charlie got hurt," Harry said to Ez, "you felt the pain in his leg."

"The longer the two are B-bound, the easier it is to push certain things out of the way, like pain. You learn to control things better. But only temporarily. Do the two of you understand what you've done? You're connected. B-bonded. In terms of Ancient Magic you're essentially married."

"What?" Ginny gasped. Harry choked.

"You need to break the connection."

"No!" Ginny cried.

"This isn't something either of you are r-remotely r-ready to deal with," Ez snapped. "You don't understand the c-consequences! It's dangerous!"

"I don't care!" Ginny insisted.

"Dangerous, how?" Harry asked.

"She feels your pain now," Ez said. "Imagine what she'll experience if you're hit with The C-c-cruciatus Curse. Harry, if you d-die, she dies."

His blood went cold.

_Don't listen to her. There was nothing in Hermione's book about that._

_Ginny, she knows what she's talking about._

"No!" And then she glared at Ez. "You will not take him away from me! I finally have him, and I will not give him up!"

"Oh, fuck," Ez said, and her head dropped back down in her hands. "You sound like your b-b-brother."

"Thank you!" Ginny snapped. "My brother happens to be a good wizard!"

"Yeah," Ez agreed. "Look, you two have only been c-connected for a little while. The Sever will n-never be easier. You could probably recover in just a c-couple of days."

"What does the Sever entail?" Harry asked.

"No!" Ginny cried. "Harry!" _Don't even think about it! Please, Harry!_

_But if something were to happen to me – I don't want you in danger._

_Nothing's going to happen to you!_

_Are you kidding? Haven you forgotten who I am? What I have to do? I love being with you here at Hogwarts, Ginny, but you know this can't last forever. It can't._

Tears flooded her eyes. "Are you breaking up with me?"

He could feel her panic, her despair.

"I will never break up with you," he promised.

She let out a breath, and then turned a stiff chin to Ez. "You heard him."

"Break up, Ginny," Harry corrected. "I didn't say break the connection."

Her face crumpled, and he was awash with grief. A tear slipped down his own face. She was making him cry. He quickly brushed it away, and tried to focus his thoughts away from her distress.

"If I break the connection, we can reconnect later, right?" Harry asked Ez. "You and Charlie did."

Ez pursed her lips, inhaled deeply. "A Legiliman c-c-can c-c-connect and reconnect a finite amount of times, but yes. Well, probably. It depends on how powerful the Legiliman is, and how long they were connected before the Sever, and how l-long the connection was broken. There are a lot of factors that I don't know about."

"How many times have you reconnected with Charlie?" Ginny demanded.

"Too m-m-many," Ez admitted. "This last Sever will have to be the end of it. If we reconnect…I won't be able to l-leave again. If I try I would kill us both."

"You took us to Godric's Hollow to break your Bond with him because he was dying, and if you hadn't-"

She cut Harry off. "I left b-because he asked me to go. He demanded a promise I felt comp-pelled to give."

"You said you couldn't leave again, but why would you want to leave?" Ginny asked. "Why won't you just re-Bond? I'd rather die with Harry than live without him."

_Ginny, don't say that._

_It's the truth!_

"What ab-b-bout you, though?" Ez pressed. "What happens if V-voldemort finds you again? It's not like you're exactly safe. Would you rather Harry d-die with you?"

"Of course not!"

_It goes both ways, Ginny._

She didn't open her scowling mouth, but he could feel her mind churning from the inside.

* * *

Herbology…finished. Transfiguration…finished. Defense…no bloody idea. Harry frowned down at his pile of Defense parchments. Some of them were due to Lupin, and Ez seemed to have forgotten to collect the rest. As Lupin was still recovering from his moon madness, Harry decided to worry about that subject later. He'd caught up with all his work in Charms, except for the current assignment, not due until the middle of next week. And that left Potions.

Potions was hopeless. Homework, essays, tests to make up, in addition to three separate potions to brew on his own time, with his own ingredients – half of which he couldn't even identify, let alone own in his Potions kit. Percy was a git. And the late hour didn't help Harry's opinion of him one bit. There was something miserable about the common room at one in the morning. That was when Sirius secretly Floo-ed him in fourth year. God, he missed Sirius. There was so much he wanted to tell him about. And ask him about.

And Sirius was gay! It wasn't the orientation that shocked Harry so much – although it did – but, it was the newfound knowledge that there was something so big that Harry never knew about his godfather. Although, maybe it wasn't so big. Had Harry ever told Sirius about his fancying Cho? Had he talked at all about Parvati? She'd been his date to the Yule Ball that year, so one would've thought she'd have crept into a conversation or two. But she hadn't. Harry hadn't mentioned girls to Sirius, so perhaps it shouldn't be so startling that Sirius hadn't disclosed anymore of his life than Harry had.

And Lupin was gay! Well, sort of. Harry still found that a bit confusing. But, Lupin was gay with Sirius! Harry found himself grinning. Sirius had loved Lupin. He'd known love. He'd felt what Harry had. It was odd to feel a sense of relief at that.

"Oi! You're turning into Hermione, you are." Ron stood at the foot of the stairs, hair messed up and dressing gown hanging open over his t-shirt and pajamas.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"I reckon the real question is why are you down here at one in the morning, neck deep in homework and grinning like an idiot? You really are turning into Hermione, aren't you?" Ron dropped down on the couch and poked at Harry's pile of parchments with a socked foot. "If you never sleep again, you still may not finish."

"It's daunting," Harry agreed.

"So, why do you do it? What's the point? It's not like you need grades to come back next year. Just show up for your N.E.W.T.s and, you know, wow them."

"Wow them? That's a N.E.W.T. grade I'm not familiar with. E, O, and WOW."

"I figure there has to be some perks to being the Chosen One," Ron said, lacing his fingers behind his neck and sliding down into his normal slouch. "You weren't supposed to even place in the Tri-wizard Tournament, and you wow-ed everyone then. You weren't supposed to be able to make a Patronus – let alone a fully corporeal one, and you managed that, didn't you? You've faced Voldemort in more duels than any person living, and survived. I reckon a couple of N.E.W.T. exams without doing the homework should be child's play."

"Hermione would have kittens if I managed to pass my N.E.W.T.s without so much as cracking open a text book. You know her. Kittens."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "So, then, you're doing this for her?"

Harry hadn't really thought about it. Was he doing all this work for Hermione? "She's my best mate and all, but I don't reckon I care for her that much," Harry quipped. "I…I don't really know why I'm doing it."

"Right, then," Ron said, and pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket. "Here's my Sleeping Potions essay. Hermione looked it over, and Percy marked it with an E, so I reckon it'll do. Just throw in some misspellings, or something. I hate that you're getting better marks on my work than I am."

"Percy's married." It just popped out of Harry's mouth.

"What?"

"Percy. Your brother. He's married Penelope Clearwater."

Ron's eyes went wide and his ears went red. "What? No, he's not!"

"And Sirius was gay. He and Lupin were lovers. But now Lupin's with Tonks, which doesn't make much sense to me, but maybe he's bi or something."

"_What_?"

"I saw you and Hermione having sex. I didn't mean to, but I happened in on the two of you on her birthday, and I saw it."

Ron twitched into the corner of the couch, a look of absolute horror on his face. "_WHAT?_ _What are you-?_"

"I can read Ginny's thoughts pretty much all the time, regardless of whether we're in the same room or not. It's not just her dreams, not just her memories. It's not Legilimency. I don't know what it is, but it's the same thing Charlie and Ez shared. Ez wants us to stop, but Ginny's adamant that we don't, and I tend to side with her because, well, I love her and the link makes the shagging unbelievable."

Ron's mouth just hung open in a state of shock.

"Oh, and Seamus has told the whole school that you and Hermione are married and Hermione's preggers. That's it. That's everything. Thought you should know."

Slowly, like treacle dripping from a spoon, a wide smile spread across Ron's face. "Bloody, hell, Harry. I've missed you."


	20. Chapter 19 A Dragon's Heart String

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 19 – A Dragon's Heart String

Once Madam Pomfrey deemed Charlie fit enough to look after himself, a small party formed in the infirmary to send him off.

"But I'm just going down to my hut," he happily protested. "And anyway, you should be celebrating Madam Pomfrey's talents. All I did was lie here like a lump."

Tonks laughed, and Mrs. Weasley ruffled his fringe. "You did your part marvelously. Now, are you sure I can't help you get settled? That hut has been empty for all this time, it's likely to need a bit of cleaning-"

"Nym is going to help me, Mum. Really. You go back to the Burrow and sleep for days. You deserve a holiday."

"Tonks, eh? Yes, well…" Mrs. Weasley's comment was more a slight on Ez than Tonks, and Charlie bristled. "Your father will be glad to have me back, that's for certain. The poor wizard has been surviving on nothing but tea and biscuits for the last while."

"Dad can cook," Ginny protested.

"Oh, yes, dear, but he can't shop," Mrs. Weasley said with a wink. "Somehow only tea and biscuit tins end up in his sack."

Madam Pomfrey returned with a walking stick that looked more ornamental than functional. "This will do you for a while," she declared. "Get yourself a proper cane when you're able. You've another week before you're cleared to teach, so stay off that leg when you're not using it, and elevate it while you sleep."

Once she was gone, Tonks leaned into Charlie and asked, "When are you going to take your Secret Keeper oath?"

Charlie blinked at her. "I'm…not."

"She's fairly adamant," Tonks told him.

"What did she say?" There was no question about whom they were talking.

"Not much. About anything, really. She's been…difficult."

Mrs. Weasley snorted her disapproval. "That witch-"

"No, Mum!" Charlie insisted. "Please."

"I will not have you defend that witch to me!"

"She's called Esmerelda," he snapped.

"She all but abandoned you! I don't know what it is between you and that witch, but-"

"Mum…no. I told her – she's done just what I've asked. No one's abandoned me. If anything, she's the one who's alone now. I've got all of you, and who has she got?"

"That was her choice!" Ginny snapped, and all eyes turned to her. Her eyes blazed and her expression was fierce.

Charlie raised his brows at his sister, clearly stunned that she had said anything at all. "We don't always get a choice," he said simply.

Ginny shook her head at this, and tightly crossed her arms. _She broke your Bond. She left you barely alive, and denied you when you began to recover. She holds your heart in her claws, but I can see even now how much you wish she was here instead of any of us. Instead of all of us. Stop loving her, Charlie. I can assure you, she stopped loving you long ago._

_That's not fair,_ Harry gently protested. _She didn't leave because she didn't love him. She would've died. They were Bonded._

_No, she wouldn't have. Charlie survived. She gave up on him. I never would've left you._

_Yeah…_ Of that Harry had little doubt.

But Charlie was distracted from Ginny's outburst by the newest arrival. Ez stood in the door looking lost. Harry could see the hesitation in her, and the longing. She wore a simple black dress, and her short hair was standing every which way. Make-up had been applied to her pale face, darkening her eyes, making her look haunted.

"I-I-I heard you're b-b-being released," she said from across the room. She still hung near the door, as if to make a fast getaway.

Charlie nodded. "You cut your hair."

She shrugged. "Mourning." She blinked rapidly, and looked up at the ceiling.

"Mourning?" he said with a smile meant to be endearing. "In the Romanian Mourning Ritual witches _shave_ their heads when their husbands die."

"You're n-not my husband, it w-w-w-wasn't my right."

"But…you loved your hair," he said more gently. And for the first time her eyes drifted to his.

_But, she loves him more. Can you see it, Ginny? Look in her eyes. She still loves him._

Ez took a deep breath at this, and pulled out a box from her robes. Slowly, she made her way over to Charlie, and Harry stepped back to let her by. "You need a new w-w-w-wand." She handed him the box. "It's the same c-c-core – a drag-g-gon's heart string – with that jerk to the l-left that you like."

Charlie stared down at the golden wood laying inside the box on a narrow pillow of blue silk. "You must've gone through three hundred wands to find another that does that."

Her eyes stayed on the box, but they gave her away. "I-I-I…I-I-I…never m-mind."

"Mere." He reached out and grabbed her hand, and she sucked in a breath as if his touch burned. He held her steady, refusing to let her shrink away from him. He smiled for her, but her eyes never left the box.

_Don't do it_, Ginny told her brother. _She'll break your heart again and again. She won't even look you in the eye, Charlie._

_He can't hear you_, Harry thought to her.

Ez closed her eyes, tugged at her arm. "L-l-l-let g-go."

"You're stuttering."

"_Nu m-m-ma atinge."_

"Mere," he cooed. "What's happened?"

Her expression crumbled and she brought her other trembling hand to cover her face.

"Nym?" Charlie asked.

Tonks glanced at her for permission, but Ez was hidden behind her fingers. With a sigh Tonks said, "She took Harry to Godric's Hollow."

"And me and Hermione," Ron testily added, not liking the omission. "Snape got us in and out."

"Well, almost," Tonks said. "They were attacked by Death Eaters, and Ez was the last one there–"

"_What?_"

Ez yanked at her arm, but Charlie's fist tightened. Tonks reluctantly continued. "Snape went back for her, but then neither of them made it out again. We sent search parties morning and night. Charlie, the Order did everything we could to find her, you've got to believe that we–"

"How long?" Charlie demanded.

"Er…" Tonks did the mental math. "More than a week."

"Nine days," Hermione corrected. "Ten nights."

Charlie sucked in a breath. Without letting go of Ez, he dropped his legs over the bed, held out a palm, and wandlessly called the walking stick from the foot of his bed. It flew into his hand.

His eyes were full of Ez as he asked Tonks, "Where did you finally find her? She was in Romania, wasn't she?"

"Romania?" Tonks asked. "You know where they kept her?"

"Ez escaped on her own," Harry offered.

"Standau?" Charlie's voice was little more than a whisper, this time to Ez.

She slowly, reluctantly nodded.

Harry knew the name from one of the memories Ez inflicted on him. Standau was her cousin, and the wizard her family had arranged for her to marry. He was also part of the gang who ambushed Charlie and Ez the night they met.

Charlie whipped the stick against the bed in frustration. "Shit, shit, _shit_!"

Ez finally broke free and stepped away from him, toward the door. He stared after her, a terrible mix of emotions on his flushed face.

_Oh…Merlin. You were right, Harry. It's in his eyes. I've seen you look at me like that. He's killing me. How can he love her so much?_ _Maybe she's put a spell on him?_

_Maybe they just can't help it. Look at her, Ginny. She feels the same way. Look._

Charlie was undeterred. "_Cum te simţi_?"

Ez peeked out at him, an incredulous expression in her watery eyes. "How do you th-th-th-think I am?" Then she shook her head, looked up at the ceiling, and took a deep breath. "It d-d-doesn't matter. You're g-going to be fine, so-"

"It matters to me."

"-so, everything is fine." She took another step back. "I'm fine. I'm good." Black tears slipped from the corners of her thickly lined eyes. "You're alive. How could I be anything b-but w-w-wonderful?"

"No, Mere. No. We don't do that, you and I."

She hung her head as a sob bubbled up and shook her shoulders. Charlie hobbled to her, pulled her against himself.

"I didn't want you to know."

"It was Standau. I know what happened. I know what he did."

Ginny gave as small groan, and Harry felt absolute anguish as a realization sweep through her like a tidal wave. She hugged herself tightly, and turned away when Harry tried to touch her arm.

_You all right?_

_Charlie's right. Why didn't I see it before?_

_See what?_

_He had her! He forced her! That Standau person, he-_

Harry put an arm around her. _You don't know that._

_I do! All this time I've hated her for abandoning Charlie – and all this time she…she did what I did. She went quiet and hoped that no one would notice. And no one did! Harry, she's been dying inside, and no one even cared enough to see. I should've seen. Me, of all people!_

Ez struggled for a moment, and Harry thought she was trying to get free from Charlie, but once she worked her hands out from between her body and his, she wrapped her arms tight around his middle. Her crying got worse and he pulled her tighter.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

A sob turned into an incredulous snort. "It's St-t-t-t-tandau. You can't p-p-protect me. I only hope I c-c-can p-protect you."

"Thank you for the wand," Charlie said quietly. He kissed her forehead. "It was very thoughtful."

Mrs. Weasley huffed and muttered an upset, "A wizard should pick out his own wand!"

Charlie gave Ez a weak smile. "I do wish you hadn't gone through the trouble, though. It's not like I'm going to have it long enough to enjoy it. Shall I take the oath tonight? Relieve you of your burden?"

"Tonight? No!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Charlie lamb, you're still recovering! You can't possibly think to put yourself in that kind of danger again!"

"Mum!" he growled, still holding Ez. He tried to give her a "not now" expression, but she carried on, face darkening, and voice going shrill.

"No! No! You can't! I won't allow it! I tried to be supportive, Charlie, I did! Your father was against you becoming Secret Keeper in the first place, but I said, 'He's his own wizard. He's got to make his own way, find his purpose.' But no more! No! I can't take this, Charlie! I can't! You've only just woken from a coma, you can't possibly take that bloody oath again!"

Ez tried to pull away, but Charlie's arms were steadfast. "It's not up to you, Mum."

"No. M-m-maybe sh-sh-she's right."

"Do you want to keep the title?" Charlie asked her, curious and concerned. "It's yours to keep, if you want it."

"Fuck no! But if you need more t-t-time…"

"I'll be ready tonight," he assured.

Mrs. Weasley threw her hands up. "Don't listen to me! I'm only the mum! What do I know?"

"Mum, please," he hissed.

"Don't you 'Mum' me! This work is bloody dangerous, and you're in no shape to be running around getting yourself into duels!"

"I'm going to be in my hut. Nothing's going to happen."

"Only I know better than that, don't I?" she accused. "You were supposed to _just be here at Hogwarts_! You were supposed to be safe!" She turned and glared daggers at Ez. "And you! If you care anything at all for my son – which I seriously doubt – you'll keep him out of the Order, and out of the fight!"

"Mum! I've given an oath to the Order which stands, regardless of who the Secret Keeper is. I've given my word, and I'm not leaving the Order."

"She's given her oath, as well!" Mrs. Weasley insisted. "I watched her do it! She's the Secret Keeper, not you! Let her risk everything!"

"Mum, she's pregnant."

Ez groaned, and buried her face in his chest.

Ginny moaned, too, and Harry held her closer. He couldn't believe what he just heard. And neither could Mrs. Weasley. She stood there with her jaw hanging open.

And then Ez gasped. She tried to jump back. "Ch-ch-charlie, l-let me go."

He dropped his arms, and leaned heavily on his walking stick.

"You have n-no idea the pull," she said stepping away from him. "I can't be this c-close to you without slipping into your head."

"I don't care."

"Well, I d-do! If I can keep you safe, I will. We can't do this!"

He looked at her more intently, and Harry realized Charlie was thinking at her. Even if they weren't Bonded, Charlie did Broadcast some.

"No. N-no, I w-won't." Ez continued to back away.

"That's not even a possibility," he said out loud. And then he smiled. It was that easy smile Harry hadn't seen on his face in a long while. "Yes, yes I can."

"You're delusional," she snapped.

"Mere-"

"No! D-d-don't call me that!"

"I've always called you that."

"Not always."

Then they both closed their eyes, and stood frozen for a moment. When they finally breathed again, Ez took another step back.

_What was that?_ Ginny asked.

_I think he kissed her. In their minds._

"You're not…p-playing fair," Ez breathed.

"I'm not playing at all," Charlie told her. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to find you. I would've found you." He stepped closer to her. _"__Ta iubesc."_

She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, and seemed to remember room full of witnesses. "N-not here."

"Tonight, then? After the ceremony?"

"No."

"You'll have to Whisper," he reminded her.

She relented, nodded. Her eyes met his again.

_Look at her face, Ginny. See how she looks at him?_

_And how he looks at her,_ Ginny thought. He could feel her heart twisting for them. Or was that his? _We have to help them, Harry._

_So, you don't think she's bad for him anymore?_

Ginny sighed. _Perhaps…perhaps he'll be good for her._

* * *

Harry placed the parchment on the table in front of Hermione. Potions was finished. The essay on the table represented the last of his sleepless nights.

Hermione beamed at him. "I'm so proud of you, Harry! You should be proud of yourself!"

"Yeah," he said, as he slipped into the chair opposite her. The library was fairly full as it was very nearly end of term and exams loomed, but Hermione was alone at her table. Harry eyed the books open and piled around her. "What are you researching now?"

"You," she said distractedly, as she glanced over his parchment. She pulled her Correction Quill out, and drew a line through a word before adding her own. She rubbed the feather's tip across her bottom lip. "This is quite good. You've really got the idea of bloodswort and calecks. Well done."

A surge of jealous swept through Harry. He clenched his jaw against it and tried to push it back some. He'd been trying to push her out completely since breakfast when she announced in front of Ron and Hermione that Harry had dreamed about Tonks.

"You fancy her!" Ginny had insisted. "You like her breasts!"

"They're breasts! Of course I bloody like them! I'm a _bloke_!" Harry had told her.

Harry hadn't seen her since, but the seething anger in her never ended, and every time she perceived another betrayal, she let him know.

_I'm just sitting here,_ he griped. _I'm not even doing anything__!_

"You'll want to change this phrasing," Hermione said, pointing to a line on the parchment. "I don't think it means what you meant to say."

"Change it," Harry sighed. "It doesn't matter."

She glanced suspiciously at him, before turning back to his essay.

_Stop looking at her chest__!_

Harry shot his eyes to the ceiling. He hadn't even realized his gaze had come to rest on that part of Hermione. _I wasn't looking__!_

_You're always looking__!_

It wasn't fair. Harry wasn't purposely ogling, and he certainly wasn't thinking any lascivious thoughts. Hermione was sitting opposite him, so naturally he would look at her. She was his best mate. He didn't fancy her, and there was certainly no reason for Ginny to be jealous – and Ginny knew it. She was in his head, after all.

_You're being impossible. And anyway, your chest is bigger than hers! Why would I look at hers when I can look at yours?_

_You're looking at hers again__!_

Harry screwed his eyes shut. "No, I'm not!"

"Is she yelling at you again?" Hermione asked, not looking up from the essay.

"She says I keep looking at your chest."

"You do."

"I do not!"

Hermione smirked and put down the quill. "You do. You look at my bum, too. But so does Ron, and half the boys in this school. They look at Ginny, too."

"Who's looking at Ginny?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That must've been some dream last night to still have her worked up like this. It's not like Ginny to hold a grudge. I would've thought she'd hex you and be done with it."

"I wish she would," Harry said. He crossed his arms. "It's bloody ridiculous that I'm being punished for something I don't even remember! Do you remember every one of your dreams?"

"Most, yes," Hermione said.

He pushed back on his chair and balanced on the two back legs, disgruntled. "It's not like I fancy Tonks, or anyone. Ginny _knows_ that."

"Of course she knows that."

"Then why is she behaving this way? It's ridiculous." He jabbed at Ginny with annoyance.

"Well…" Hermione leaned her elbows on the table and hunched closer to him. "When was the last time the two of you…_you know_?"

"What? Why?"

"It's just, when Ron hasn't…in a while…I could say the sky is blue and he'd row with me about it."

"It hasn't been that long," Harry said, but when he stopped to think about it, he wasn't so sure that was true. "How long is a while?"

"A week?" Hermione said. "Two? I don't know. It depends on the person, I suppose. And what they're used to. Ron likes it every other day-"

Harry held up a hand. "Really, I don't want to know that."

Hermione carried on with a cat-like smile. "I would rather every day, but I think he enjoys the anticipation. You didn't last night, did you? Or the night before? Are you sneaking it in during the day?"

"We did it in our heads the last couple of nights."

Hermione looked up, startled. "You can do that?"

"Yeah," he said with an embarrassed grin.

"And? How is it?"

"Not as good as when we're together and linked, but better than doing it alone."

Hermione blinked for a moment, and her cheeks went pink. She glanced back down at the essay. Harry doubted she saw it.

"I'm concerned about Ginny," Hermione said after a moment. "I think learning what happened to Ez when she was taken has really upset her."

"It has," Harry admitted. "Her nightmares are more vivid. They're worse than anything I imagined. Sometimes it's difficult to…_you know_…with that in my mind. Actually, it's difficult to do a lot of things. Like sleep. How did I manage a pleasant dream about Tonks with all that horror floating around in my head? And why isn't Ginny relieved? If it was pleasant for me, wouldn't it be pleasant for her? I know she feels what I feel, because I certainly feel what she's feeling."

"I don't think she cares to feel what you felt when Tonks was involved," Hermione said dryly.

"Why not?" Harry dropped all four legs back to the floor. "I'd love it if she had a sexy dream about her and Tonks. Anything would be better than those horrible Riddle dreams."

"What if Ginny had a sexy dream about her and Ernie?" Hermione asked.

This gave Harry pause. "Who's on top?"

"Oh, for–" Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "What does it matter?"

"If Ginny's on top, then I could look at her. She's good on top. She touches her baps for me. I love that."

"Her baps? Are you twelve again?" Hermione grumbled, though Harry could tell she hid a smirk.

"You've seen them, have you? They're lovely."

"They're nice," Hermione admitted.

A thrill of arousal whirled through his abdomen; blood flowed south. Ginny began to scream at him again, and Harry sent her image after image of her own naked breasts, and her own fingers working over them, pinching and squeezing. She immediately thought of his cock, dark and straining, and her hand gripping it. He went hard.

_Not fair. I'm stuck in the library!_

_Yes, with Hermione's chest. I feel for you._

"My face is up here, Harry," Hermione said, pointing to her blatant smirk. "When did you become such a bloke?"

"I guess around the time you became such a..." Harry remembered her on her bed, on her back, with Ron between her legs. He couldn't help it, and he tried to push that thought away, but Ginny saw it and plucked it back out into the open.

"Oh…no…" He felt her surprise, followed by a heart-stopping numbness. "Oh…oh, no…"

"What is it?" Hermione asked. "Harry?"

"Ginny knows. She knows I saw you…and Ron."

Hermione covered her face. "She's angry?"

"No…" For the first time that day he wasn't getting anger from her at all. In fact, he wasn't getting much of anything. "I think…" Heart pounding, lungs pumping, legs tingling from exertion. "She's running up the stairs. She's gone to her room."

"You'd best talk to her, Harry."

He was already headed out the door. But what was he going to say?

_Ginny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see that._

No response.

_Ginny, I know you can hear me. It's not like you can hide from me forever. We share each other's minds! Look, I didn't want you to see that, but it was bound to happen, right? I mean, it's not like I can exactly hide the things in my head from you. But they're just thoughts, yeah? You can't hold me responsible for thoughts. I didn't do anything. Well, I watched. Fine. I watched. Not the whole thing, mind, but I happened in on them, and, well, I watched for a minute. Is that why you're angry? How can that make you angry?_

He marched up the stairs to the seventh floor, angry and resentful in his own right, with no memory of the corridors between the infirmary and there.

_You're going to punish me, are you? For seeing Ron and Hermione like that? Months ago? For thinking it was sexy? Well, it was sexy. It was bloody gorgeous. But I didn't do anything, and I don't even think about it much – how long have you been in my head? And this is the first time it's come up, isn't it? _

"Poppycock." Harry stepped through the portrait hole, breezed through the common room, and up the dormitory steps.

_Is it the fact that I saw them at all that bothers you? That I saw Hermione like that? If it had been Ron and Lavender, would we even be having this one-sided conversation? Would you be giving me the silent treatment? Hermione is my friend, and she has been for the last seven years. Ginny, I don't fancy her. I don't want her. You know this. I can't help where my eyes fall. I don't even realize it most of the time. It just happens. Like that dream last night. It's not Hermione, or Tonks, or any other girl. I'm not being unfaithful. I haven't done anything! I don't even want to do anything!_

He pushed open the door that led to the Head Girl's stair, and trudged up.

_You're angry because I watched, aren't you_? _Are you angry at all_? _Are you sad_? _I can't place this feeling I'm getting from you. I don't understand it. What's going on, Ginny_? _Talk to me._

The room at the top of the stairs was empty.

_Where are you_?

He ran back down the staircase, and asked one of the third years where Ginny had gone. They all pointed up the girls' dormitory stairs. He couldn't follow her there.

_It's because I liked it, isn't it? I'm a bloke, Ginny, and I'm sick of apologizing for that. _He glared up the staircase. _It happened one time. Once. By accident._

She stepped into his line of sight, and stared down at him from the curve in the staircase. She wasn't crying, and she didn't look particularly upset, but there was something in her stance, in her eyes that scared him.

_I'm sorry_, he thought.

_I can't get you out of my head. I tried to close you off, but you're still here._

_I know,_ Harry told her. _I can't push you out either. I'm sorry. I've tried._

_I'm not angry._

_Then what is this feeling?_

_I don't know_, she thought. _But I don't want to feel it anymore._

* * *

Harry knocked on the door, Ginny silent beside him. Curfew would start in five minutes, and already the Auror at the end of the corridor was eyeing them suspiciously. Several of the students had taken to minor acts of vandalism, acting out against the prison Hogwarts had become. No Hogsmeade, or Quidditch or roaming the castle grounds left a tremendous amount of unfocused energy that not even the DA could hope to fill. Christmas would be a welcome diversion this year, and Harry couldn't imagine that anyone would be staying at the school over the holiday.

Lupin finally answered the door. "We're looking for Tonks."

"Professor Tonks," Lupin corrected with a smile. He opened the door wide enough for them to enter.

Tonks was on the couch by the fire, with a book in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other. "Wotcher, Harry," she said. "Ginny."

"We need to talk to Ez," Ginny said quietly. She didn't look at Tonks, but rather at the crackling fire in the hearth. "She's not in her quarters."

"They're still Whispering," Tonks told her.

"Still?" Harry asked. "It's been days. Will she be teaching class tomorrow?"

"Dunno," Tonks said. "Why? What's happened?"

Harry and Ginny didn't have to exchange a look. Neither of them said anything.

"Shall we all sit?" Lupin asked, gesturing to the chair by the couch. He waved his wand at it, and a second chair was conjured.

_We need Ez. They can't help._

_Tonks can get us down to Charlie's hut_, Harry reminded her.

_Never mind, I've changed my mind._

"You can't be serious!" Harry gapped at her. _You've just spent the day making me hate my own existence_!

"Sorry we bothered you," Ginny said out loud. She turned to go, but Lupin still stood by the door watching them with worried suspicion.

"Ginny?" he asked. "Are you in some sort of trouble? Have you and Harry done something?"

"Bloody hell," Tonks said, as she tossed her book aside and rose to her feet. "Oh, bloody hell! Tell me you're both taking the Potion!"

_The Potion?_ Harry inwardly snorted. He wasn't the only one with sex on his mind.

"Harry's taking it," Ginny told her. "Only one of us needs-"

"I'm not taking it," Harry corrected. His stomach dropped out from under him. "Ginny, I told you I stopped."

"But…" Her eyes went wide, and she stared at him. _You knew I wasn't on it. I...you started up again when you got back from Godric's Hollow._

"No, I didn't. You knew I wasn't taking it, Ginny – and if I wasn't taking it, then you would need to!"

"_Why didn't you?_" she screeched. "Oh, shit!" She grabbed for her middle.

"No, no, no, no…" Harry turned away, his mind reeling. This wasn't happening. One of them had to have been taking the Potion! The bloody pisser was that Harry knew Ginny was thinking the same thing.

"But, you knew!" Ginny cried.

"You knew, too!" Harry insisted.

"Huh. Well. I suggest a trip to see Madam Pomfrey," Lupin said lightly. He set down his glass on the table by the door. "Tonks? Shall I escort them?"

"No…I'll go with her. You take Harry back to Gryffindor Tower."

"Are you _mad_? I'm going with her!" Harry had to struggle not to shout.

"Ah, Harry," Lupin said on a sigh. "Madam Pomfrey won't allow you in while she examines Ginny. It's best if you go back to Gryffindor and wait for her there. Besides, I think we need to have a chat, you and I."

"No, we don't," Harry ground out.

_Go back to the Tower_, Ginny said. _You'll know the second I do, and anyway, you're making my head hurt._

You're_ making my head hurt_, Harry snapped. _I don't believe this. With all these bloody thought in our heads, why didn't either one of us think about the Potion_?

_If it had been lodged in Hermione cleavage, one of us would have!_

"Come along, Harry," Lupin said.

They walked slowly down the corridor, and climbed the stairs at the end while the Auror watched. Bloody Aurors. At the landing they took the next corridor, and Harry looked out over the castle grounds, glowing blue as the snow reflected the half moon's light.

"You don't have to say anything," Harry finally blurted out. "It's my fault. I should've made sure. I know that."

"With these sorts of things, Harry, it's not wise to lay blame. Either something has happened, or it hasn't. But, either way you both are going to have to deal with the consequences."

Harry felt a trill of panic run through Ginny. She must've reached the infirmary.

_I'm here_, Harry told her.

_I don't want to do this. I don't want Madam Pomfrey to know. I don't want to know._

_Do you want me there? I'll turn around now if you do._

_No._

"Ginny's scared," Harry told Lupin. "I should've gone with her."

"And how are you feeling?"

"Sick."

Lupin gave a sad sort of chuckle. "Yes, I imagine you do." He looked troubled, and walked with his hands clasped behind his back. "Harry-"

"I'd rather skip the lecture, thanks. It's not likely that I'll ever forget about the Potion again."

"Yes, I suspect it's a lesson one only has to learn once. And still, there are things that need to be said. Things you need to be reminded of." Lupin cleared his throat. "This war is not going to go away, Harry."

"And neither is Ginny," Harry snapped. "If something's…if I've…I'm not going to abandon her!"

"No, I dare say you won't. You're your father's son. I wouldn't expect anything less. And still, you are very young, and already carry with you a tremendous burden – one I could never have imagined at your age. I simply hope, Harry, that should you need…well, anything, that you'll ask. I don't expect you need a father any longer, but I'd like to think that James' boy would consider me a friend."

Harry nodded. "I do," he said quietly, unnerved by the moment.

_Harry_?_ What's happened_?

_Nothing,_ he told her. She flashed irritation at him.

"Good, then," Lupin said as they reached the Fat Lady's portrait. "Would you like me to stay with you until you know? I can't imagine it will take Madame Pomfrey too long to sort things out."

"No," Harry said. "I'd rather you didn't. But thank you."

"All right." Lupin left him to go into the common room on his own.

As luck would have it, everyone was still up and about in Gryffindor Tower. The couch and chairs by the fire were taken up by the third and fourth year girls who giggled when Harry walked in. Ron and Seamus played a game of chess by the stained-glass window, and Harry headed over there through years of habit, not realizing until he was too far to change course that he couldn't tell Ron about what was happening. What the bloody hell was he going to say to him?

"Oi, mate," Ron greeted. "Care to play winner?"

"Oh, go on!" Seamus protested. "I took your queen, didn't I?"

Seamus did, in fact, have Ron's white queen standing bored next to his side of the table. Ron's side contained the black rooks, both bishops, a knight, and every single one of Seamus' pawns.

"What is it?" Ron asked, suddenly serious.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"Yes, there is. Where's Ginny?"

"Where's Hermione?" Harry countered.

"Where do you think? Up stairs, buried in her books. Harry-" And then Ron looked at Seamus, and seemed to come to some sort of realization. "Let's go visit Hermione, then, shall we?"

"Come back here!" Seamus called after them. "You forfeit, then, Weasley?"

"In your dreams, Finnegan."

They climbed the stairs without saying a word, and with each step Harry felt anxiety grip him tighter and tighter. He couldn't tell if it was him or her, but by the time they reached the Head Girl landing, Harry was holding his belly. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"_Accio_ dustbin!" The small wicker basket near Hermione's bed flew at them, and Ron easily caught it. He eyed the bottom. "Don't suppose it's water tight," he said. "Try not to be too sick."

Hermione was on her bed, sitting cross-legged surrounded by books and parchments. Crookshanks was curled up on her pillow, and he blinked at Harry when they entered.

"So, what is it?" Ron asked. "Ginny's all right, isn't she? Where is she?"

Harry didn't know how long he could hold them off.

_What do I tell Ron?_

_Ron? Bloody hell, Harry__!__ Don't tell him a bloody thing__!_

_He's staring at me._

_I can't talk to you now._

"Harry?" Hermione's brows lowered in concern. "Are you all right? Harry, where's Ginny?"

"She's with Tonks," Harry told them. They exchanged a look. Harry sighed. He couldn't keep it from them. They'd figure it out eventually. "Tonks took her to the infirmary. She's fine. Honestly. But, well…it seems that I stopped taking the Potion and forgot to tell Ginny."

"What?" Hermione gasped.

Ron's face went red. His mouth dropped open, and then clamped shut.

"How could you _forget_?"

"Yes, yell at me some more, Hermione," Harry snapped. "I'm not quite stressed enough at the moment."

Ron dropped down on the bed. He went very still.

"Ginny…hasn't been brewing the Potion," Hermione unhelpfully supplied. She narrowed her eyes at Ron. "Ron?"

"What?" He jumped up off the bed. "I'm taking it! Every night, I take it like clockwork!"

"Good," Hermione said. "I am, too. We should be fine. Even if one of us makes a mistake with the brewing, the other should cover us."

Ron nodded. His eyes stayed on the corner of her bed. He didn't want to look Harry in the eye, and Harry rather thought if he did, Ron would punch him.

"Harry, if she's in the infirmary, can you still hear her thoughts?"

"She's scared. She's…embarrassed. She's…not pregnant."

The words rang through like a bell. Harry even heard them in Madam Pomfrey's crisp voice. _Not pregnant. _

Harry gulped a lung full of air, and sank down on to the corner of Hermione's bed. "Thank bloody Merlin's beard."

But there was something lurking in him, something behind the relief. _Ginny?_

_Not now._

"What is it?" Hermione asked. "Harry?"

"What?"

"You're crying." Ron looked at him as if he'd grown the Dark Mark on his forehead.

Harry wiped at his face. "Bloody hell." _Ginny?_ "She's crying."

"So, why are you crying?" Ron asked, with a look of horror on his face.

"Relax," Harry snapped. "It's not catching."

He should've gone with her. He knew he should've gone, and he let Tonks and Lupin talk him out of it. Why had he done that? _Ginny, I'm coming to get you._

_Please. Harry, please don't._

_Why are you upset?_ _You're crying, aren't you? Isn't this__ a good thing?_

_Yes._ _I suppose. But, do you have to be so bloody relieved?_

_What?_ _You're joking, right?_ _Ginny, we're too young, and there's the war-_

_I know! I know, all right!_

_You're relieved, as well, aren't you? It's not just me. Is it?_ He couldn't separate all the emotions jumbled between them. _You didn't want…did you?_ _Were you hoping? No, I know I didn't feel hope before._

_I don't want to talk to you about this. You don't understand._

_What don't I understand? We're not going to be teen parents – it's not hard to understand!_

_Don't talk to me._

"This is bloody insane!" Harry threw his arms in the air. "She's gone mental!"

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

_Ginny, you can't be serious!_ _You _wanted_ a baby? You _want_ one?_

_If it was yours…I would've loved it._

Her words punch a hole right through him.

"Harry? You've just gone white as a sheet. What's happened?"

"She is preggers, after all, isn't she?" Ron asked. He looked a little green, as well.

"No…" Harry shook his head, reached out and braced himself against the post of Hermione's bed.

_I'm going to stay the night here, in the infirmary,_ Ginny told him. _Madam Pomfrey is giving me a potion to help me sleep…and I think I want to take it._

_So I won't be in your head._

_So you won't be in my head,_ she confirmed. _I need some time alone._

_I understand,_ Harry said, though it didn't help his heart from feeling heavy. _Ginny…I love you._

_I know. I love you, too._

He could feel her growing heavy in his head, and then slowly, he felt her slip away. _Ginny, I want you to know that if it had happened, I would've loved it, too._

_I do…_

And then she was gone.

It was the first time in weeks that Harry had been alone in his head. His thoughts seemed to echo.

"Harry!" Hermione was kneeling over him, suddenly, and Ron was looking down from behind her. Why was he on the floor?

"The infirmary, then?" Ron asked. "Is it your scar, or Ginny?"

Harry touched his head. "Did I faint?" Why was he forever fainting? "No infirmary."

"You sort of…fell over, really," Hermione said. "You've hit your head."

"I'm fine," Harry said, allowing her to help him sit up. He felt a bit wobbly, and his stomach threatened.

"And Ginny?" Ron asked.

"She's all right. She took a Sleeping Draught, and…I reckon our connection Severed. I didn't know it would do that. It took me by surprise."

"Ginny took a Sleeping Draught?" Hermione asked. "Ginny?"

"I reckon…it's really the only way," Harry said on a sigh. "We've been trying to break the link all day." But now she was gone, and Harry felt strangely alone. "I think I'll just go down to bed."

"Maybe you should sleep here," Hermione said.

"What?" Ron challenged.

"In Ginny's bed so I can keep an eye on him. Does he look right to you?"

Ron studied Harry. "I'll keep an eye on him," he decided. "Come on, mate." He held out a hand, and helped Harry up. "Easy now. Maybe you should go to the infirmary."

His head spun, and his belly churned. "Ez said the initial part of the sever is the hardest. It should be better in the…" His knees gave out and Hermione helped Ron catch him. "Or, I could kip here." He nodded to Ginny's bed.

They dragged him across the room, and managed to get him on the bed before the shaking started. _Ginny, where are you? _His heart began to race, and sweat broke out on his face and chest. _Ginny!_ But she wasn't there. He was alone.

"This can't be right," Hermione insisted. "Ron, we have to get him to the infirmary!"

"What can Madam Pomfrey do? He needs Ez," Ron told her. "I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth."

"She's still Whispering," Harry told him. "Never mind. I can't do this. Get me to Ginny."

"You need Ez," Ron insisted. "She's in Charlie's hut, isn't she? I'll fly down and fetch her."

"Take Harry's Invisibility Cloak."

"I need Ginny!" Why weren't they listening? Harry tried to sit up, but the whole room dipped around him. Hermione pinned his shoulder to the bed.

"Fetch Esmerelda," she said to Ron. "I'll stay here with him."

"_I need Ginny__!_" He needed to see her, to touch her. If only he could hold her hand, the loneliness might be bearable. He ran a trembling palm over his face, pushed his glasses away. They were too heavy, too hot.

"Harry, drink this." Hermione cupped the back of his head and helped him sip from a glass. The water was warm and flat. He choked, pushed her hand away. He just made it to the edge of the bed before he retched, and she caught him before he slipped over the side and ended face down in his own sick.

His insides felt like they were going to burst into flame, and his head felt like it already had. "Ginny…"

"Ron's gone to get Ez. It won't be long."

"Hermione, help me."

"No, Harry, lie still. You're in no condition to-"

"I need Ginny! Please! Hermione, I'm begging you!"

He rolled from her and was sick again. His eyes watered, his nose ran. Hermione tried to pull him back but he fought her. "You don't understand," he choked out. "I need her! Damn it, Hermione! Help me!"

She huffed, but relented. With her shoulder shoved under his arm they managed to get Harry off the bed and on to his feet. Navigating the stairs was another issue entirely.

Harry had never realized how many steps there were between Hermione room and the common room. Hundreds. Harry couldn't count them; he couldn't even open his eyes. He let Hermione lead him down. The trembling seemed to get worse, and with it Harry's need to reach Ginny.

"I'm…not going to make it…"

"Of course you are. Take a step, Harry."

He did, and he stumbled. His knees gave out. He heard Hermione cast a spell, and felt the stone beneath him give way. He was falling. Tumbling. He tensed and waited for the impact. Hands on his shoulders. A comforting voice in his ear. And still, Harry was alone. _Ginny…_

There was a sharp slap on the side of his face, and Harry blinked. Everything was blurry. Faces looked down at him. Portraits flew past. Dark windows. Dark ceilings. "Ginny…"

His skin went cold, and a chill between his shoulders made him shiver. More voices, and more faces, but none of them hers. Finally he hit the ground. Two hands on either side of his face. Dark eyes.

_Harry, look at me._

_Ez?_

He felt her inside his head, and the dizziness eased. The chill backed away. He blinked and let himself fall into her. She wasn't Ginny.

_No, I'm not. You won't get the same rush from me that you got from her,_ Ez thought. _You Bonded with her, but you're only Reading me. It's not the same._

"I need her."

"No, Harry. You've already st-t-tarted the Sever. You need to see it through."

He struggled to get away from her. More hands pressed him down. "No!" He lashed out and his knuckles came into contact with something that gave a stomach clenching crack. And then, a ball of bone and flesh slammed into the side of his face, and pain became his whole world. Harry tried to roll away, and the fist found him again.

Hermione screamed. Madam Pomfrey's assertive voice rang out. "Charlie Weasley, you will unhand that boy!"

"Ch-charlie, stop. Ch-ch-charlie!"

"He hit you!"

"It's me, Ch-charlie, for fuck's sake! I'm fine! It won't even leave a mark! Ch-charlie, let him go! He doesn't know wh-wh-what he's doing! You fucking brute, let him go!"

Harry didn't have his wand; he felt for it, but it wasn't there. Charlie was freakishly strong, and Harry couldn't push him away.

"Easy, mate," Ron counseled. "Look at him, Charlie, he's not right."

"I don't…" Harry couldn't think. His head was killing him. "Where's Ginny?"

"He's out of his mind. You remember what it's like – that first Sever. Charlie, l-l-look at me! I'm fine! But Harry's not. Let him go. We n-need to help him through this!"

Suddenly there was more light and air, and Harry crawled along the floor until he was able to get his feet under him. He still felt Ez in his head, holding some of the murkiness at bay. Where was Ginny? He blinked.

_Charlie hit me. Why?_ It was impossible to understand.

_He's afraid,_ Ez told him.

_Not of me. Is he?_

_You punched me, and it scared him. Harry, you remember I'm pregnant, don't you? _

Harry closed his eyes. _I remember. I'm so sorry, Ez. I didn't even help them look for you. If I had-_

_Harry, focus. _She turned away, looked over at Ginny. Harry followed her gaze, and his desire to touch her bloomed anew. Ez stopped him before he reached her.

_Harry, you need to finish the Sever._

_No. I can't. I don't want to. And neither does Ginny. We need this connection._

"No, you don't, Harry. You want it. You like it. But you don't n-need it."

"You don't understand!"

"Oh, but I do. The sex is amazing; your d-desire feeds hers, f-feeds yours. F-food tastes richer. The world looks brighter and warmer and everything is easier. Except when it's n-not. Your emotions aren't yours, and your thoughts aren't yours, and everything you do or think or imagine is scrutinized through a filter of someone else's experiences - someone you love. The g-g-g-good is amazing, but the bad is the absolute w-worst. The bad is what will drag you down, Harry. It's what will d-distract you, what will get her killed. You have to b-break the connection."

He shook his head, backed away. "You don't know!"

_You know that I do._ He could hear that strange buzzing sound again.

"It wasn't that bad," Charlie said to Ez. "I never scrutinized everything you thought."

She blinked at him. "Are you serious?"

"Mere-"

"I am not having this d-discussion with you," she snapped. "I can't talk down two crazed wizards at once!"

Charlie waved his wand and suddenly Harry went rod-straight. He hit the floor like a board before Ron could reach him. "Bloody hell!"

"Then deal with me," Charlie said.

"I've been d-dealing with you for the last three days! Release Harry!"

"That was Order. This is personal. I want the connection back."

"What? No!"

"I want to make the Bond. Marry me."

"You're out of your fucking m-mind!"

"I'm thinking clearly for the first time in a long time," he said. "I want us back. Like we were in Romania. Like we were before."

"Yeah, well, those days are l-long gone."

"You still haven't forgiven me? Mere-"

"No! Now, l-let Harry go!"

Glowering, Charlie released Harry. Ron helped him to his feet, and then when Charlie stepped closer, he put himself between Harry and his brother.

"Why is Ginny here?" Charlie asked, threateningly. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"She's good," Ron supported.

Charlie studied his brother, and Ron stood his ground. "If she's still sleeping, she's had a draught," Charlie surmised. He looked at Madam Pomfrey for answers.

She jutted her chin out, refused to answer. "Healer/patient confidentiality."

Then Charlie glared at Ron. "You will tell me what happened, and you will tell me now."

Ron glanced over his shoulder at Harry, and then turned back to Charlie. Then he exchanged a look with Hermione. Neither of them would to talk.

Ez gasped, her eyes wide on Hermione. "Oh, fuck."

"What?" Charlie demanded.

"Harry? How c-c-could you?" Ez's question was accusatory, painful.

"What did he do?" Charlie repeated.

"What you did!" she told him. "He stopped taking the P-p-potion and didn't tell her. They're becoming us. Oh, Ch-charlie, put your wand down. You're angry with yourself, not him!"

"Don't tell me who I'm angry with!" he roared. "You taught him Legilimency!"

"This is not L-l-legilimency, and you know it! And it's not my fault. If anything, this is your fault!"

"My fault? How do you reckon that? I didn't force him to knock up my sister and lie about it!"

"He didn't knock her up, Charlie. That was you. And he didn't l-lie about it. That was you, too. And Ginny wasn't attacked, and didn't miscarry in the middle absolute n-n-n-nowhere, and it didn't take them hours to find help while she slowly bled to death not knowing why, not understanding until the healer looked at her with p-pity and told her she lost a baby - a baby she didn't even know she'd conceived!"

"I told you I was sorry!"

"And I told you I didn't want to be a m-mother! We were fighting D-death Eaters every fucking day, Ch-charlie! _And_ my family! You spent a year t-telling me you wanted children, and I spent a year telling you no, and so you went b-behind my b-back and stopped taking the P-potion!"

"Just for three bloody days! Three lousy days of bedlam, before I could gather my wits about me again! I started taking the Potion right away!"

"But you still d-d-didn't tell me!"

"Because I didn't I know it had happened until…" Charlie swallowed. He glared at Harry, and then turned back to Ez. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so bloody sorry! Is that what you want to hear?"

"No."

"You're never going to forgive me, are you? You're going to leave again."

"I d-didn't leave because of that, although that should've been enough." Ez crossed her arms, licked her lips. "It wasn't about the betrayal that I felt, or the doubt. I l-left because I l-love you."

"What?" Charlie cried.

"I almost died when I miscarried. And if I had, because of our Bond, Ch-charlie, you would've died, too. I had to protect us both. Somebody had to be resp-ponsible, and it wasn't going to be you. I had to leave. So do you, Harry. Distance is the only way."

The room went very quiet. Beside him, Harry could hear Ron breathing. They looked over at Ginny sleeping, oblivious. She would be furious in the morning when she woke and discovered Harry gone, both from Hogwarts, and from her head.

"When I finally face Voldemort for the last time…"

"Yes," Ez confirmed. "And n-now that the break has begun, it's your best chance to complete the Sever."

Harry wanted so badly to climb on to Ginny's bed and curl up behind her. He wanted to wrap her body with his, and feel her breathe against him. He wanted to slip back inside her, to make love to her, body and mind. He wanted to say good-bye to her properly, to look her in the eye and tell her he loved her and let her know for certain one last time that he did.

"I have to g-get him out of here," Ez said. "He's going to hit bottom soon."

"I won't let you go." Charlie's voice went quiet. "Mere-"

"He needs distance. So d-d-do we."

"Please."

Ez took a step back. "Harry and Ginny still have a ch-chance. If they can get through the next couple of days, they might actually be able to have a relationship. Their cravings might eventually go away. We have to help them, Charlie. We can't let them become us."

"But…I love us. Don't you remember how good we were together?"

"That was a million years ago. This is n-n-now."

"Mere, don't do this. Please. Marry me. We can make this work."

"I can't p-protect you."

"I don't need protection," Charlie told her.

"Standau will find me. He will come. And when he does, Charlie, we can't be B-bonded. It's the only way I can keep you safe. Don't ask me again."

For a long moment Charlie stood there staring at her, pouring into her. Tears welled in both of their eyes, and spilled over at the same time.

"Harry, p-p-pack a bag."

"Harry's not going anywhere without me and Ron!" Hermione piped in.

"I'll take him then," Charlie said, defeated. "You stay here at Hogwarts where it's safe. Safer. Well, where there are bloody Aurors…and Tonks. I've got to talk to her." He narrowed his eyes on Ez. "Swear to me you'll stay here. Swear you won't run."

"I c-can't."

"Until I come back for you. Five days is the end of term. I'll come back and escort you and Ginny to the Burrow for Christmas."

"No."

"You need to get to know my family. They need to get to know you."

"Ch-ch-charlie-"

"I'll sleep on the couch. I won't touch you, or even be alone with you. This isn't about reconnecting. It's Christmas, Mere."

She sighed.

"I'll drink," Charlie promised.

She smirked. "That should m-make for a fun holiday."

"You're with me," Charlie said to Harry. He turned to Ron. "Are you coming to the Burrow, or staying with Ginny? You decide."

"We're coming," Hermione said.

"I'm – I'm staying with Ginny," Ron announced, with a nervous glance at Hermione. "She's my sister. I can't leave her with, well, _her_." He nodded to Ez. He gave Harry a guilty look. "You understand, mate? She's my sister, and she's had a rough time of it. And Hermione will be with you. And Mum will fuss over you."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Thanks, mate. I know you'll take good care of Ginny." Harry leaned toward his friend. "Tell her…tell her…"

"We'll see you end of term," Ron finished for him. "You can tell her yourself."


	21. Chapter 20 The Break

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 20 – The Break

The fever returned just as Harry was helped out of the infirmary, and he felt Ez slip from his mind. The trembling became so bad at the castle gates that it took both Hermione and Charlie to hold Harry up. They Apparated back to just outside the Burrow, Harry by ride along on Charlie's sleeve, and Hermione carrying all of their bags. Harry managed to remain conscious until they reached the house.

The next couple of days were an endless blur of nightmares and pain. Harry knew Hermione was near; he'd hear her voice, or feel the calming touch of her hand on his face, on his arm, in his hand. "I just need Ginny," he told her. "I'll be all right once I have her back. Please, please, please get me back to Ginny."

When he finally was able to lie still, and his head began to clear, there was a soft, white light that streamed in through the curtains, and a heavy chill in the air. His throat was dry, his bladder full. He rolled to the side, and encountered Hermione's fluffy mop. She was sitting on the floor against his bed, hunched over her knees.

"You're awake?" she said, and a smile grew across her face as she twisted around to see him. "How do you feel?" She touched his forehead. "No fever."

"I need the loo."

"Oh, right." She helped him to his feet, but his legs weren't quite strong enough to hold him up and balance at the same time. She shoved her shoulder under his arm. "Charlie said you'll be weak for another day. How is your head? You kept complaining about your head, and we thought – well, I thought maybe it was Voldemort."

"I don't know. Maybe. I dreamed about him," Harry told her. "My head's good now."

"Well, that's a relief."

They navigated down the narrow stairs to the loo. Hermione helped him in, and then they both realized he wasn't going to be able to stand over the toilet on his own.

"I could get Charlie," she suggested.

"Look, I don't care if you don't."

"Oh. Well, I'm not bothered," she said a little too casually to be sincere. "I'll just hold you here, shall I?" She wrapped her arms around his middle, pressed her forehead into the back of his left shoulder. She had to hold him tight to support his weight, and unfortunately that meant her breasts pressed into his back. If Ginny were in his head at that moment, she would've hexed him.

"Er…maybe you should get Charlie, then?"

"What? Oh. Right. _Charlie! Charlie!_"

Footsteps came bounding up the stairs and a blur of ginger flashed past.

"Charlie! We're in the loo!" Hermione called.

Charlie stepped down the stairs at a calmer clip, and came to a stop with his arms crossed and a shoulder against the door jamb. "If only I had a camera," he said with a smirk.

"If only I had an extra hand to hex you," Hermione quipped. "He's just as weak as you said he would be."

"Yeah."

Charlie took over for Hermione, who shut the door on her way out. With one muscular arm bracing across Harry's chest, and the other holding Harry's back, relaxing enough to let a stream flow didn't seem possible. The memories Ez had shared were a little too vivid in Harry's head still, and Charlie's body was much too close for comfort. Harry wished he had Hermione back. It was one thing to be held by a lovely girl he didn't want to think about in that way, and something completely different to expose himself while be held by a bloke he had intimate knowledge of.

"You've got an owl from Ginny," Charlie offhandedly said. "Came this morning. We didn't open it. At least we know it's not a howler."

"You get anything from Ez?" Harry asked.

"I wasn't expecting anything."

There was an awkward moment of silence while Harry tried to relax.

"Mum's made you loads of food. You should eat if you can. It'll help. She doesn't know, by the way. Mum. About Ginny. Or why you're here."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. I reckon Mum will have enough to deal with when Mere arrives. Merlin, I hope no one gets hexed."

"If you're worried, then why bring Ez here at all? She doesn't seem keen on coming."

"Because I want…I want Mum to see Mere the way I see her."

Harry snorted. "I don't think that's very likely."

"Why? You like Mere, right? Once you got to know her, anyway. Mere's going to be the mother of her first grandchild. Mum has to accept that."

"How did that happen, anyway? Last I knew she wasn't very receptive."

"The night of the Autumnal Equinox Dance. She was receptive that night - I can assure you, she received the hell out of me." He sighed. "That one night's going to have to last me the rest of my life, I reckon."

Another uncomfortable lull, and Harry felt what little energy he had begin to dwindle.

"So…then, no other witches?" Harry asked.

"It hardly matters. It's never the same."

"You mean without the Bond?"

"I mean without the girl. The girl."

"How many girls have you been with, then?"

"Are you going to piss, or what?"

* * *

_Dear Hermione and Harry,_

_Ginny is doing much better. She's sitting up in her bed staring at a piece of parchment I gave her. I don't think she's going to use it. Ez is off her rocker again. No surprises there. She's talking to herself in Romanian, or something. Charlie's name comes up a lot. We had a test in Transfiguration. Tonks said you two could take it when you get back. It wasn't too hard. _

_Love, Ron_.

Harry pushed the letter aside. Two pieces of parchment had come with Errol, who was still waiting for Hermione to finish quilling her response. The other letter contained only two words: _You lied_. Harry had a pretty good idea of how well Ginny was coping.

"She's not going to want me to be here when she gets home," he said quietly. The beans on toast on his plate remained untouched.

"Where would you go?" Hermione asked. "Headquarters?"

"I reckon I could go back to Hogwarts," Harry said.

"Childish," Hermione sputtered. "Why don't you write and ask if she wants you to clear out. Maybe she wants you here."

"To yell at, maybe," he agreed.

"Yes, well, you know it's bound to happen sooner or later. The last thing she knew she was going to sleep, and then she wakes up sick, with no Bond and the wizard she loves gone. I can't really say I blame her."

Harry scowled.

"I mean, you did the right thing," Hermione added. "But still…"

Charlie picked up Ron's missive and read it for the third time, frowning.

"You know, you could write, too," Hermione told him crisply. "Ask him what he means by 'off her rocker.'"

"I know what he means," Charlie grumbled. His lunch remained mostly uneaten as well.

"Then why not owl her?" Hermione pressed. "You've been sour and surly since we left."

Charlie's brows lowered. He dropped the parchment and stabbed at a fried tomato. "I don't want your advice."

"Because I'm younger or because I'm a witch?"

"Because you're happy," Charlie snapped. "Because you've got your-" He broke off, shaking his head. "Bill is full of endless advice. Pointless advice. Bill assums, as do you, that I'm trying to win her love. Rubbish. I've got her love. She loves me more intensely, more passionately than you could possibly imagine."

"It's about trust," Hermione said. "Trust is harder to win than love."

Charlie slammed his hands down on the table hard enough to rattle the plates and make the pumpkin juice slosh. Then he stormed out the kitchen door and into the garden.

"That was a might insensitive," Harry said.

"Don't you start. What he did was reprehensible! If Ron ever-"

"Well, it wasn't Ron, was it? It was Charlie."

"You're taking his side?"

"Of course not. But I'm not condemning him, either. I've seen how he looks at her, Hermione. He loves her every bit as much as she loves him. And I know what it means to love someone and not be able to have them." Harry stared at the door while Hermione huffed over her plate.

"You're right. You're right, I should…I'll go talk to him."

"I'll go. Bloke to bloke, you know."

"Tell him I'm sorry."

Charlie made it to the far paddock before Harry found him, and then into the orchard before he caught up. The rain was little more than a drizzle, but the wind was brutally cold, and cut right through Harry's jumper. He wished he'd thought to put on a rain cloak. When at last he settled next to Charlie at the base of an apple tree, Charlie transfigured a leaf into a brolly that sheltered them both from the storm.

"It's none of your business," Charlie warned.

"I know," Harry said with a shrug. Charlie looked older than his years and, without a smile on his face, brutish.

"You've got Dumbledore's eyes again. What do you see when you look at me like that?"

"Just you."

Charlie shook his head, gazed out over the orchard. "It was three days!" he said. "Three bloody days to ruin a lifetime." He leaned his head back against the tree trunk. "Of course she didn't want to be a mum! The only mum she'd ever known is a sadistic bitch, and her dad is a heartless bastard. She didn't want a family because she'd never really had one. She doesn't know what they're like, does she?

"And I thought - all right, I was stupid. I was a fool, and reckless. I thought, well, once she had one, she'd see. Once she held one in her arms, she'd want a whole house full of babies. I wanted a family with her, but more than that I wanted to get her out of Romania, out of the line of fire. She'd been running since she was fourteen, and I wanted to give her a home – a real home – and security and love. But she wouldn't marry me, wouldn't leave Romania, and I thought if somehow she got knocked-up, then maybe…"

"She'd flay you alive once she found out what you did? Because that would've been my first thought."

"Yeah, I know. I know! That's why I was only off the Potion for three days! Don't look at me like that. I did think about telling her, you know, afterward. I half-hoped that she'd Read it in my mind, but she wasn't looking for it, I reckon. And then two weeks later it was like it hadn't happened at all. I was back on the Potion and everything was normal. I actually forgot that I hadn't taken it. And when she got sick, she told me it was a virus, and not to worry. I believed her because a witch is supposed to know if she's preggers, isn't she? And then a month passed, and then two, and I thought, well, surly she'd know by then. I was disappointed, yes, but relieved, too, because she wouldn't find out what I'd done. I didn't think on it again. I kept taking the Potion.

"And then we were ambushed. Five of them came out of the dark one night when we were tailing a Death Eater in the middle of Nowhere, Transylvania. One of them hit her with a Pummel Hex. I couldn't believe it when she went down. Hell, I'd seen her take worse and not even break a sweat, but for some reason this spell, it hit her in just the right place. She started to bleed. I've never been so scared in all my life. I thought she was going to die. She almost died."

Charlie leaned forward, elbows on knees as if he'd been hit.

"It was a boy. I had a son, Harry, and besides Mere, you're the only one who knows he ever existed. And I'm the only one who mourned him. Mere went on and on about how I betrayed her trust, how I was some monster. But, never once did she talk about the baby. He was her son, too. I made a mistake, I knew it almost as soon as I'd done it, but no amount of apologizing can fix something that broken.

"And now she's pregnant again. Another baby. Another son. You'd think I'd learned that lesson," he said with a sardonic chuckle. It sent a shiver up Harry's back.

Charlie pulled a piece of brown grass and worried it between his finger and thumb.

"I miss her. And I don't just mean being inside her head, although I do miss that. And I miss making love to her, but that's not what I mean, either. She and I, when we were together, we were fantastic. She's funny. Her laughter fills me up. And she's clever. We're a good match dueling. There's no one I'd rather hit me with a Bee Hex, and no one I'd rather heal me up again, too. She cooks for me when she's happy – she knows this Cake Spell that will curl your toes. We talk about everything and nothing. She's my best friend. No one knows me the way she does. And when we fight, it's like…like…well, you've seen Ron and Hermione go at it. It's bloody sexy. Although, now when we fight it feels as if I'm navigating a minefield."

The rain drummed hard against the brolly, and Harry watched as it poured down over the edges. "You reckon the two of them are sitting in Hogwarts talking about us right now?" Harry asked.

"Cursing us, for certain. If you feel your arse burn, it's Mere."

Harry grinned. "I think I will write to Ginny. You should write to Ez."

"And say what?"

"I don't know. Tell her it's raining here. Did you try to knock her up this time, too?"

Charlie stared past the rain. "No. Only…I must've done, right? I know she doesn't take the Potion. She's allergic to one of the regents. And I know I'm not taking it - what would be the point? I tried to, well…. There was this bird that I met in a bar in back in Sibiu. I think she was a Muggle. Or a Squib, I don't know. She wasn't much of a looker, but that doesn't always matter much. And she wasn't one to really chat. She was fair at snogging, though. Better than fair. But when I took off her bra I lost it. Complete break down. Cried like a little girl right there on her bed. It all came crashing down on me at that moment, that Mere was gone and never coming back, and all I had to look forward to for the rest of my life was…I didn't even know her name. The Muggle. I was so disgusted with myself I never went back to Siniu. I'm pathetic."

"Hermione would think that's romantic. You stayed faithful to the girl you love."

"I think it's bloody pathetic. So, I'm never supposed to shag again? Because Mere won't have me, I'm supposed to be a monk or something? I'm sure she's shagged loads of blokes since she left Romania. She likes to shag. And, she's brilliant at it. Who wouldn't want to shag her?" He threw a handful of sod at the brolly. "Bill says I'm punishing myself. He says a lot of crap like that now that he's with Fleur. Do you like her?"

"Fleur?"

"This baby was an accident. It had to have been. Otherwise I am the monster she thinks I am. It was an accident. I wasn't thinking. The night of the dance I'd been without a witch's touch for almost two years. I wanted her so bloody much…when she kissed me, I was lost."

* * *

_Dear Hermione and Harry,_

_We had a bit of a scare, but if you share this with Charlie I'm supposed to tell you that Ez is all right. Only she's not. She fainted dead way at supper, right in the Great Hall. Percy and I took her to the infirmary. Ginny won't talk about it. She cries a lot. She and Ez are spending far too much time together, if you ask me._

_Love, Ron_

"I hate this," Harry said, as he slouched on the couch, his ankles crossed on the coffee table in front of him. Hermione sat at the other end, likewise slumped, with a butter beer in hand, and her feet on Harry's lap.

It was late. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed hours before, and as the night wore on a chill settled over the house. The fire had burned down to embers, and as neither of them knew a Stoking Spell (and they were both too lazy to get up), Harry and Hermione shared a knitted blanket.

"It's weird being alone in my head again. I feel like half a person." Harry yawned. "I can't stop thinking about her."

"That's because you keep talking about her."

"I talk because I think."

"Not the other way around? You should put it in your letter. Did you finish with your letter, then?"

Harry looked down at the parchment propped on the lump of her feet. "I suppose. I can't really think of anything else to say."

"And still, you talk." She glanced skeptically at the letter. "You've poured out the whole of your heart into that one. A whole sentence, is it?"

"What? How much have you got?"

She held up her curling parchment. "At least a foot and a half."

Harry snorted. Ron would never get through it. "Is it a love letter, then? Give it here."

"Mind your own letter," she said with a smirk.

His own letter was a meager offering. The truth was that he didn't know what Ginny wanted to hear. Ron's letters were irritatingly uninformative.

"Have you given any more thought to what you're going to do when you see Ginny again?"

"You mean, am I going to plunge back into her mind? I've thought about it, yeah."

"And?"

"And what? I know it's a bad idea, and I still want it. I know I shouldn't do it, and still I want it."

"Charlie said that the first Break has the best chance of success."

"What does Charlie know?" Harry irritably asked. "And for your information, he wants back in Ez's head, too."

"Yes, well, he's not Harry Potter, is he? He doesn't have Voldemort in his future."

"Doesn't he?" Harry asked. "He's Secret Keeper for the Order, after all. He's nearly died once."

"Three times, actually. And yeah, all three times Mere and I were linked." Charlie limped down the stairs and dropped down on the chair next to the couch. He looked exhausted, and his eyes were suspiciously red, as if he'd been crying. Harry didn't want to think about it. "It makes dying a bum go when you know you're going to take the witch you love down with you."

"And still, you want back in her head," Harry argued.

"Yes, well." Charlie sighed. "I'd rather take the risk than lose her all together, I reckon." He pulled out a folded parchment so thick that Harry doubted Pig would be able to carry it. Hermione's eyes went wide; it put her own letter to shame.

Charlie looked at his letter, weighed it in his hand. "Did Mere sleep with Percy?"

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Er…"

"I thought so. _Bugger!_" He tossed the letter in the fireplace. It began to smoke on the embers. Then he stormed up the stairs again.

"Did you really have to tell him that?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Harry asked. "He slept with Tonks."

Hermione gasped. "No! She's with Lupin!"

"Now, yeah. And Percy's with Penny Clearwater. Or, I reckon her name's Penny Weasley now. Odd, that. And you'll be Hermione Weasley."

A slow smile spread across Hermione's face. "I…I hadn't heard it out loud before. Hermione Weasley. Sounds off."

"A bit," Harry agreed. "But once we get used to it, I'm sure it'll be fine."

"And Ginny Potter?" Hermione asked.

His stomach clenched.

"He talked about it once, you know. Ron did. It was the closest he's come to telling me he loves me."

"He still hasn't told you?"

She shrugged. "He said we're going to get married one day, because that's what people do when they're in love. I suppose that close enough."

"If you say so."

"Ron said Lupin is gay. Is that true?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Seems so." Harry looked down at his parchment. And then at the flames in the fireplace that had found new life.


	22. Chapter 21 Arrivals

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 21 - Arrivals

"Something's happened," Harry said. He sat on the couch facing the fireplace, legs bobbing with agitation. "It's half past five."

"Nothing's happened," Hermione groaned for the hundredth time. "Why don't you help Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen?"

"We're always back at the Burrow by half past four," Harry reminded her. "Even if there was a backup on the Floo Network - which there shouldn't be because there were fewer students at Hogwarts this term - they should still be here by now. School to train to London to Leaky Cauldron to Burrow. They should be here-"

"Yes, Harry, I can count in my head. Please do the same."

"Something's happened."

"Charlie went to fetch them, didn't he? And Tonks is there, right? Plus dozens of Aurors all on that train. I bet Lupin's on there, too. Nothing's going to happen. They're just running late, is all. Perhaps they stopped in Diagon Alley to put in a little Christmas shopping."

"And perhaps Death Eaters-"

"Harry, stop it! I'm just as worried as you are, and I will not sit here while you catastrophize their tardiness!"

"And how long do we wait, then? When do we go looking for them?"

She pursed her lips. "Twenty minutes. We'll start in Diagon Alley and work our way back."

Just then the kitchen door opened, and a wind-swept Ron Weasley walked through. "What a day! Did you miss me?"

Hermione squealed and ran into his arms. They hugged, and she laughed with relief. Ginny stepped in beside them, tossed two brooms into the corner under the coat rack.

The sight of her took Harry's breath away. With her cheeks flush from wind and exertion, and her eyes bright and smiling at him, Ginny was as lovely as he ever remembered her. And, she looked happy to see him. That was a relief because he was so bloody happy to see her.

"Where have you been?" Hermione scolded. "We've been worried sick!"

"Hullo, hullo. Where's Charlie?" Mrs. Weasley asked, once she'd hugged both her children. "He's not staying at Hogwarts, is he? He said he'd be home for Christmas. I haven't had him home in years, and he promised."

"He rode with us on the train," Ron told her. "But when we got to London, he wouldn't let us Floo. Said it's monitored now. That's why we flew."

"Ez is afraid of flying," Ginny added.

Ron gave a snort. "That's an understatement. She went into hysterics right there on platform 9¾. But she can't Apparate now, and Charlie won't let her take the Floo, so I don't know how they're going to get here. They might be spending Christmas in Diagon Alley, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley slapped her dishcloth on the table. "Lovely. Just…lovely. Ron, Ginny, put your things away and then hurry back. I need help, you know. Even without Charlie – flesh of my flesh who would rather spend the holidays with some witch who couldn't see herself to hold his hand while he lie dying – there are going to be plenty of mouths to feed. I need help in here!" She turned, hands on hips, and surveyed the kitchen. "It's my holiday, too! I don't see why I should have to make all the bloody sacrifices!"

Ron grabbed Hermione by the hand and they escaped up the stairs together. Harry helped Ginny with her bag, but she was careful not to touch him. When they got to her room, she shut the door and leaned heavily against it.

"Charlie said you'd be drunk. You don't look drunk."

"I expected you hours ago."

She smirked. "We were a little late. I've never flown so far before. It's not as fun as Quidditch."

"Yeah."

"So, then…what happens now? Can I touch you?"

"I…I think that would be all right."

Ginny reached out her hand, and Harry slipped his palm along hers. He closed his eyes. He wanted to be inside her.

"How have you been?" she asked.

"It was difficult. But then, you know that."

She nodded. "I don't ever want to go through that again, Harry. Not ever. I thought I would die from wanting you."

"And now?"

"I still want you," she said, meeting his gaze. Harry had to look away. "Ez said it would be safe enough if one of us were to drink – not that I'm thrilled by the idea of having to be drunk to be with you, but…for a while…if it would help…unless, of course, we're going to reconnect."

"You want to? Knowing now what it would mean?"

"Do you?"

He didn't know how to answer that.

"It's dangerous," she admitted. "And I don't just mean the dying bit. That last day we were linked…it makes me understand how Charlie and Ez could get to where they are. I love the connection, Harry, really I do, but I don't want to be them. I like us much better." She squeezed his hand. "But…Harry, if you do, if you want it back…"

"I do," he admitted. "But you're right. What would be the point of being Bonded for a little while if I'm going to lose you in the end? I don't want to be Charlie and Ez, either. And, as much as I love the connection, Ginny, I love you more."

Every word he said was absolute truth, and still he wanted to kiss her, to grab her and make love to her while he pushed into her head. Harry had to step away to fight it.

"This is going to be difficult," he admitted.

"We can do it."

"Ronald! Ginevra! Come down here at once!" Mrs. Weasley sounded angry.

"You stay here," Ginny said, and then she gave him a wicked smile. "Have a drink."

He almost gave into temptation right then and there, but luckily Ginny ducked out the door in time. He rested his forehead on it, took a deep breath and swallowed down the frustration. He had to find control. He had to make it work.

* * *

During supper a storm rolled in bringing a pounding rain down on the house, and howling winds. Mrs. Weasley remained in a mood. Mr. Weasley took her upstairs to an early bed, saying she was over-tired and needed the rest before family and friends began to arrive. Harry helped Ginny clear the table while Ron and Hermione settled on the couch in the living room. Once she cast a Scrubbing Charm on the sink, Ginny took Harry's glass of plum wine out of his hand and swallowed the dregs. Her throat bobbed, and Harry felt a tingled of awareness whirl in his abdomen. Her eyes looked amazingly dark.

"Bill and Fleur are coming tomorrow morning, Fred and George will arrive tomorrow evening, and then Tonks and Lupin will be here the next day for Christmas supper. We're not going to have much privacy. How much have you had to drink?"

"Not much," Harry told her, "but enough. I'm taking the Potion again. Hermione helped me brew a batch, so we know it'll be effective."

Ginny nodded. "Mine will be ready on the new moon, so after that we'll be doubly protected."

"Good," Harry said. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips.

"Yeah," she breathed.

And then she was in his arms, and he was in hers. Their mouths crashed together, teeth clashed, tongues dueled. She was wrapped around him so tightly he couldn't breath, which was fine with him. But, even crushing her to him, she wasn't close enough. He kissed her mouth, her jaw, her throat. She pushed his shirt up and ran her hands over his stomach and chest, rippling tendrils of want through him. She pinched his nipple, skimmed her nails down his side. He found her pulse with his tongue and sucked. She moaned.

That would have been his breaking point, that amazing sound that rumbled in her throat. He felt the overwhelming urge to dive into her head, and a moment later he knew that he had tried. The wine saved them.

"What?" Ginny breathlessly asked. "Why have you stopped?"

He didn't trust himself to speak. He bent down and kissed the small part of her chest above her shirt. Then he pushed her neckline down and licked the hollow between her breasts. Her fingers threaded through his hair, her nails scraped across his scalp. It was all right, he told himself. They were protected. He had done everything he could to keep her safe. She would not die because they shared this night.

He clasped her ass and squeezed, and was gifted with another groan. He lifted her, perched her on the worktop. Her thighs opened for him, and he pressed himself against her.

A giggle floated in from the other room, followed by Ron's happy laugh. This made Ginny smile, and Harry felt it against his mouth. "Remind me to tell you what Ron said about Hermione," she whispered.

"What did he say?"

"Later."

Her hands held his face, and she kissed him again. She tickled his ear, and ran her tongue along the roof off his mouth. She did everything right, and still, something was wrong. He thrust against her. Something was most definitely wrong.

"Let's go upstairs," Harry whispered against her mouth.

"You don't want to do it here? We could do both-"

"I want privacy."

That was all she needed to hear. Ginny slipped down to the floor, and took his hand. In the living room Hermione was straddling Ron on the couch with her shirt off. Harry purposely stared at Ginny's ass as she led him up the stairs.

"Oh! Harry!" He didn't look at Hermione. "Don't…you'll remember what Charlie said, won't you?" Charlie had said a lot over the past five days.

The bottle of Firewhiskey was still sitting out on the coffee table. Harry held out his hand and said, "_Accio_." It flew at him, and he caught it. He'd been working on that bit of wandless magic all week.

"What did Charlie say?" Ginny asked once they were alone in her room.

"What didn't he say?" Harry grumbled. He whipped off his shirt and jumper together, and flipped open the button at his waist. Ginny slipped out of her skirt, and lifted the hem of her top. Harry stilled her hands. "No. Wait. Let me do that."

She stepped to him, smoothed her hands up his bare chest. A shiver ran up his spine, bolts of excitement spiked through him. He looked into her eyes and…

He stepped back and screwed his eyes shut. "Bloody hell!"

"What?" Ginny asked. "Harry?"

"I keep trying to push into your head. I'm not _trying_ to try, it's just happening. Bloody hell, Ginny, what if…what if we can't ever do this?"

"We can," Ginny soothed. "We will. Ez said the pull will be almost irresistible at first, but that it would get easier with time."

"What if she's wrong?" Harry cried.

"Then we reconnect." She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"No. It's not – I won't risk your life like that. I won't put you in that kind of danger."

"You'd be in danger, too, you know, if something were to happen to me. It's not a choice I'm thrilled with. But I don't think I want to live my without ever making love to you again. Can you imagine us forty and celibate?"

"Oh, Ginny. Sweet Ginny," he said. Her cheek was so smooth and soft. "I'll never make it to forty."

"Don't say that! Of course you will! We both will!"

Her ferocity warmed his heart. "When you say it like that, I half believe you."

"What do I have to do to win the other half of you?" And now she was smiling as well.

He tugged the bottom of her shirt up and over her head. "I reckon you'll make me a believer yet."

She took his hands and placed them roughly on her breasts, and then frowned. She looked down at her hands holding his, holding her. Then she brushed his hands away and pushed the cups of her bra down. He would never grow tired of seeing her pink, round nipples on her smooth, round breasts propped up by cloth and wire. He touched their peaks, gave her a small pinch.

"Harder," she ordered. He complied. The groan he was waiting for didn't come. "Could you…I don't know, use your mouth?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I think I could do that."

He led her over to the bed and took a seat, and then he pulled her between his legs. Harry loved it when she watched him touch her. Slowly, he ran a finger along the trim of her knickers as he took a nipple between his lips. It was hard as a ripe pea, and sweet as sugar on the tip of his tongue.

"Harder," she whispered. "I can barely feel it."

He used his teeth, sucked and lapped. She pushed the hips of her knickers down, and he took the hint. Two fingers raked through the strip of ginger hair there, before he pushed them into her moist heat. Only, it wasn't quite as moist as he'd expected. With her breast still between his teeth, he glanced up at her.

"Maybe I could do you. That always gets me going," she suggested. Her breast slipped out of his mouth with a wet pop. "Come here."

She pulled him up, and unzipped his fly, and then pushed his jeans to the floor. She cupped his bum through his pants, pressed her body against his, kissed him. When she dropped down to her knees, his cock twitched, and she tugged his pants down and out of the way with a smile. Her warm fingers at the base of his semi squeezed, and then stroked, and it was so bleeding sexy when she guided him to her mouth, when her tongue worked over his tip - and still, Harry didn't feel the rush he expected. Usually, this was where he had to hold back, when he tried to distract himself from the lust that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Something's wrong."

Her mouth made the wet sound that had never failed to excite him before, and while it was very sexy, there was just…

"Nothing?" she asked. "I hoped it was just me. I am quite tired."

"Charlie said it wouldn't be very good at first. I mean, that was lovely, but-"

"Yeah," she said, standing again. "So, why was it all excitement in the kitchen, and then once we got naked, we cooled off?"

"Dunno. Let's experiment." He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her, and slowly kissed her mouth with gentle brushes of his lips over hers; with his tongue, with his teeth. She returned the kiss, deepened it, strengthened it. Her fingers ran over his bare back - his slipped up and down her sides. The kisses were nice. A twitch fluttered through his belly. She pressed against him, and another answered.

"I like this experiment," she whispered against his mouth. "Care to take it horizontal?"

He stepped back to the bed, and pulled her with him. They tumbled together on to the mattress. She gave a delighted giggle, and he had to laugh. When was the last time he'd heard that sound come from her? Her legs parted and he easily slipped between her thighs. It was a comfortable position, and the one that Harry had spent countless hours fantasizing over while she was still seeing Ernie and insisted on her rules. He liked the feel of their stomachs pressed together, of her thighs holding him, of her locked ankles pressing down hard on his bum. He loved knowing she was his and no one else's. He loved touching her breasts. The way she tried to touch her breast herself while she kissed him was sexy. She began to rock a little beneath him. He ground his hips against hers, looking for the same friction she sought.

"I don't…what is wrong with me?" she muttered. "I'm so…but it's like an itch I can't find. I want you, but it doesn't…"

"I know." Harry sighed, pressed his forehead to her shoulder. "So, this is what Charlie meant when he said we might want to stick to snogging for a while. I thought he was nutters, but it's starting to make sense."

"So we can work ourselves up, but not finish it? That's bullocks!"

Harry rolled a little to the side and glared down at his pathetic semi. "I don't think I can take this kind of frustration."

"Bullocks!" Ginny snapped again. "This is bullocks! Bond with me."

"Now wait." Harry rolled up to sitting and threw his legs over the side of the bed. "He did say it would get better."

"When?"

"I don't know. But he did specifically say that eventually sex can be good again."

"Eventually? Bloody hell! That could mean anything!"

"It means," he said, smiling at her over his shoulder, "that when we're forty we'll still be shagging like rabbits."

The side of her mouth crooked up. "You have a dirty mind, Harry Potter."

* * *

They were in the middle of supper the following night, being regaled with funny tales from Fred and George's stores over the sound of the continuing storm, when the kitchen door slammed open. A cold blast of wet air blew in, along with a soggy Charlie, and a dark mass of robes clutched to his side.

"Bill," he breathlessly called. "Grab her!"

Both Bill and Fleur jumped up from the table - they were the closest to the door. "She's like ice," Bill gasped. "Why would you take her out on a night like-"

"Don't start!" Charlie barked. "Help her upstairs!"

"Will you not-" Fleur began.

"I will not!" Charlie snapped. "I just about killed her on the flight over here. Bloody, stubborn bint."

"Charlie!" Ginny snapped.

He pointed a finger at her. "Don't you start either!"

"But she's-"

"I bloody well know what she is," he said through clenched teeth, as he watched Bill and Fleur struggle to get Ez up the narrow stairs.

Charlie turned a wild face to Harry and stepped uncomfortably close. "Harry," he harshly whispered. His expression was pained. "Harry, would you…let her Read you? It might help."

Harry nodded and headed up after them. "Percy's room," Bill said, and then maneuvered her on to the double bed.

"Bill, fetch zee robes from by bag," Fleur said, as she knelt down in front of Ez to remove her boots.

Ez looked as sick as Harry had ever seen her. Her eyes were glassy and, with no make-up left, her face was pale, washed out, small. Her short hair was plastered to her skull. She shivered uncontrollably.

"Come on," Bill said, tugging Harry's shoulder. "Wait outside."

"H-h-h-harr-?" Ez's voice broke, and she had to clear her throat. "Oh, th-th-th-thank…"

He met her gaze, and pushed into her head so she wouldn't have to waste the energy. Then she rode his thoughts back into his mind. He felt her embrace, and her desperation, her fright. It wasn't anything he had expected from her. He hugged her back.

_I'm losing my mind._

_Codswallop. You lost it long ago,_ he teased. _It's going to be all right. _

_He made me fly._

_He's a brute,_ Harry cooed. _But you're safe now._

_I miss him so much. I miss his mind. I want him. _He felt the desire in her, it nearly choked him.

_Did you give in? _Harry asked. _I hear a quiet buzzing._

_He Broadcasts when he's upset. Harry…I couldn't stay out of his head – I tried. But we didn't Bond because we didn't make love. We…I…I almost…but we didn't. We didn't make love, and that's all that matters. Harry, we can't be left alone, even for a minute. I can't control myself anymore, and he doesn't want to. Last night…I thought all was lost…I wanted him so badly…I want him now…I want…I want…_

_You're over-tired. You need to rest. When was the last time you ate? I'll get you some food._

_Don't leave me!_

_I won't,_ Harry quickly assured. _I'll stay here._

_You'll keep Charlie away?_

_For a while. So you can rest._

He felt her slip out of his head, and was surprised to find himself still standing across the room, by the door. Ez was now dressed in pale blue robes, obviously borrowed, and Fleur was just putting the last of the Stretching Charms on the seams. Ez looked so very different in a light color. Delicate. Breakable.

Fleur helped her lay back against the pillows. She cast a Heating Charm on the bed and, when she left, Harry moved the desk chair over next to the bed.

"H-h-Harry?"

"Yeah."

"You and G-g-g-g-g-Ginny?"

"Don't worry. We'll talk when you wake up."

It was about an hour later, while Harry was uncomfortably dozing, that there was a small knock on the door. Charlie poked his head in. The room was dark, but Harry could tell from the expression on Charlie's face that he could see her.

"How is she?" he whispered.

"She's a mess," Harry told him, as he stepped out on to the landing.

Charlie leaned heavily on his walking stick and the wall. "I had some Firewhiskey. I can sit with her now."

"I'm good."

Charlie ran a hand through his hair. "She asked you to stay, didn't she?"

"She doesn't stutter in her head."

"Yeah." Charlie looked at the closed door. "It's getting worse. Today she could hardly string a sentence together. I'll sit with her for a while. I won't wake her up."

"I told her I'd stay."

"You're going to keep her from me?" Charlie asked, clearly stunned. "Are you serious?"

"She needs sleep. Look, this can't be good for the baby."

"No," Charlie agreed. "It can't be good for either of them." He tapped the tip of the walking stick against the floor a couple of times. "I never should've made her leave Hogwarts. No, I take that back. She couldn't have stayed. She would've had no protection there without Tonks and the other Aurors. The castle's too big for me to defend, but I can protect her here. Or at the Leaky Cauldron – I did try to get her to stay there, but she-"

"She's afraid of being alone with you."

"Bloody hell, Harry. I love her. I'm not going to force myself on her."

"I think it was more that she was afraid she'd force herself on you."

"It would hardly be force, now would it?" Charlie said grimly.

"You know she doesn't want to reconnect."

"I know she does," Charlie corrected. "But she's scared. She thinks I need protecting. She doesn't trust me."

"She's had good reason," Harry found himself saying.

Charlie's brows lowered. His face turned dangerous. "She's going to run, Harry. We can't live like this, I think that's clear to everyone. This isn't going to get any easier between Mere and me, or if it does, only marginally so. We're not like you and Ginny – not anymore. We've done this too many times. Don't you understand? We can't have a relationship if we don't Bond one last time, and at this point, the only reason for us not to reconnect is if she plans to leave me. Did you say anything to you?"

"No."

"Would you tell me?" Charlie nodded knowingly at his hesitation. "You wouldn't tell me if she asked you not to, would you? Damn it, Harry!"

"I'm torn, all right? I know what it feels like to not be able to have the person you want – so yeah I'd like to see you and Ez back together. And I agree that part of her wants you back. But, there's this Bond thing, and, well, I can see Ez's point on that, too. I mean, there's a reason I'm not going to reconnect with Ginny."

"Yeah," Charlie said flatly. "Because you're leaving. You're leaving, and Mere is leaving..."

"It's more complicated – I _have_ to go, Charlie! I have to find the Horcruxes, and I don't want Ginny hurt. If I die-"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I know you have Ginny's best interest at heart. And, I know Mere has mine. She's worried about her bloody cousin. Not that I blame her, after everything he's done to her. I'm worried, too. Hell, I'm terrified. But it's reconnect or it's over, and I can't live without her again. And if she takes my son…"

"She's not going anywhere tonight," Harry told him. "Get some rest. Tomorrow is Christmas. We'll all relax and eat ourselves into oblivion, and maybe then she'll feel strong enough to talk with you."

"And if she's not?"

"Charlie, you know you can't push her into-"

"I know, I know." He dropped his head to the side and thumped it against the wall. "I just…bloody hell, Harry, I want her so badly. I feel like I'm this close to losing her again, and…bloody hell! This is so bleeding hard!"

"I know-"

"No, you couldn't possibly." Charlie shook his head, and for one terrifying moment Harry thought he was going to tear up, but Charlie took a breath and reigned in his frustration. He stared past the door as if he could see through it. "She left me in Romania in the middle of the night, and disappeared. I looked everywhere for her. Everywhere. I even came back to London to fetch Nym to help me find her. When Mere leaves…she's gone. Completely gone. I have to get her to Bond with me again. We have to reconnect. If she bolts I won't ever see her again. Either of them. Harry, you have to help me on this. Please. Don't keep me from her."

"Yeah…all right. But not tonight. Tonight let her rest. We'll see what's to be done once she's rested."

Charlie nodded. He rubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah. Right, then. But you'll stay with her? You won't leave to find Ginny, or whatever? She's disappeared in the middle of the night before."

"I'll stay," Harry assured, even thought he was fairly certain Ez wasn't in any condition to attempt a getaway. "We'll see you in the morning."


	23. Chapter 22 Christmas at the Burrow

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 22 – Christmas at the Burrow

Christmas morning began with presents and sunshine and a visit to the loo. Ez seemed distant as she looked at the small, red wrapped box that fell out of her stocking. "B-b-but…I didn't… This isn't m-m-mine," she insisted. "I d-don't have a stocking."

"It says Esmerelda." Harry showed her the stitching on the side. There were a couple other packages stuffed down at the toe. Harry dumped them out for her. "Here. This one's from me."

She looked at the flat box. "You got me a Christmas p-p-present? Why?"

"What do you mean? Open it. It's chocolates. I know you like them, you asked for them when you were in the infirmary."

"Th-th-th-that's…" She looked bewildered. "Thank you."

"And here," Harry said picking up the next small package. He read the tag. "This is from Ginny."

"G-ginny?" Tears swelled. She'd slept fitfully, and in the morning light without her usual armor of eye-liner and confidence, she looked far more fragile than Harry was used to. She looked back at the first little box, with its red shiny paper and its bright orange bow with a tortured expression. Her naked emotion unsettled him, and Harry glanced at the name tag to keep from looking at her. _To Mere,_ it said. _With love._

"Why don't you open the one from Charlie?" Harry cautiously suggested. She hadn't been able to look away from it.

"When d-did he have time to shop? He's been in a coma, for c-casting out-loud!"

"Maybe he already had it."

A tear slipped over her lashes, and she looked at the ceiling to keep another from following. "Harry. Harry, you have to help me esc-c-cape." Her expression was tortured. "He'll never l-let me go, Harry, and I c-can't st-st-st-stay. You know I can't."

"You want to leave now? But where would you go?"

"It hardly m-matters."

"It matters to me," Harry told her. "And it will matter to Charlie. You're carrying his son."

"Son? Oh. Yeah. His W-weasley theory. Only m-m-male ch-children." She rolled her eyes.

"So, it's not a boy?"

"It's just a b-baby," she breathed.

"And you're going to take it with you."

"I c-c-can't exactly l-leave it here," she said sharply. But then she eyed Harry. "You th-think I'm st-stealing his ch-ch-child away. I'm n-not. When it's born…Ch-charlie will make a good f-father."

"Then why leave now? Why not wait until after the baby comes?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Because I'll n-never make it that l-long with him around. I had half d-decided if he came to my b-b-bed last night I wouldn't fight it anymore. It was a m-moment of weakness I know will come again and again and ag-g-gain, and I can't c-c-count on l-luck, or you, to g-get us through."

"So, you're never going to be alone with him again? Ever? This is Charlie we're talking about. You and Charlie. You're going to walk away from that?"

"I'm g-g-going to r-r-r-run," she breathed.

Harry felt her push into his head, and with her a wild sort of desperation. _Every time I see him, every time I touch him, I don't know what I'll do. I can't say for sure that I'll make it through this day without Bonding with him again. Or this hour…this minute…_

Harry did feel the desire in her, the need that went beyond craving. She itched inside and out for wanting Charlie, she burned. Stray memories of him swirled like autumn leaves before a storm. Her mind was thick and heavy and trembling with want. But there was fear, as well. It was dark and left a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach. It reminded him of Ginny's nightmares.

And then a thought hit him so hard it knocked the wind from his lungs. Standau, older than the face Harry was familiar with, and bearded, but the malicious snarl was the same. He was over Harry, sweating, laughing, fucking, hurting…

_NO!_

Harry was pushed out with a force strong enough to propel him back against the wall. He let his legs give out, and he slid down to the floor. His mind rebelled, his body trembled.

When he blinked, Ez was rocking and crying, curled over herself. Harry swallowed. There was a sour burn in the back of his throat.

"I…" He had to get out of that room, away from her and that memory, even for a couple of minutes. "I'll get you some food. Something to drink." He didn't know if she heard him or not. He didn't wait for a response.

He ran down the stairs. In the kitchen he poured himself a glass of water and downed it, desperate to wash the bile from his mouth, and the memory from his head. Violation and pain, shame and hatred. Fear. Panic. Agony. He couldn't stop his hands from trembling.

"Harry? You all right, mate?" Ron's voice. Harry hadn't even noticed that he and Hermione were sitting at the table, sharing a coffee. There was a plate of toast and sausages. Harry pulled a few of each on to a napkin and wrapped them, trying to act casual as he did so. He didn't want to look at them. The inexplicable impulse to escape was nearly overwhelming.

"Harry?" Hermione echoed.

"I don't know," he finally said. He didn't know what to say - or even if he should say anything. He didn't want them to know. He wanted to hide. "Where's Ginny?"

"Still in bed," Hermione told him. If anyone would understand it would be Ginny.

He found her sitting on her bed, surrounded by her Christmas goodies. She seemed an island in the middle of this sea storm inside him. He found it difficult to draw a breath.

"Happy Christmas!" she greeted, and then her face fell as she registered Harry's expression. "What's happened? Harry?"

"You were right." He quietly shut the door, and then put the food on the nightstand. Ginny put a Locking Charm on the door for him, giving him permission to crumble, and that's just what he did. His legs went wobbly, and he lurched across the room to her. "Oh, Gin. What you thought happened to Ez…it did."

She rolled her lips into her mouth, and closed her eyes for a moment. "Damn."

"She was terrified - I was terrified."

"She _showed_ you?"

"It was an accident." He sat beside her on her bed, and ran a finger over the pretty barrettes Hermione had given her, needing something – anything else to focus on. They sparkled against her hair. Ginny was so beautiful, and her eyes were so open, so understanding. Harry choked on the lump at the back of his throat. He had to look away.

"Her mind…it's worse than it was when we were at Hogwarts. She wants to run, Ginny, and after seeing inside her head, I'm not sure it's such a bad idea. She needs to go somewhere calm. Somewhere where there's no temptation. As bad as I want to push into you right now, she wants Charlie a hundred times more. A thousand times. I can't even describe it - it's…devastating."

"Harry?" she said slowly. "What are you telling me?"

"Nothing," he whispered. Unable to resist, he touched the back of her hand, traced the delicate veins. That simple touch seemed to help him. "But I wonder…if she leaves…" He took a breath. "She's not in her right mind. And she's carrying a baby. Where would she go? She has no home anymore. I can't imagine she's managed to save a great deal of money teaching at Hogwarts."

"You're going to go with her." She said it with a resigned sigh. "Of course you are. She can't be by herself right now, obviously. If she can't fly or Apparate, she'll be an easy target for her cousin to find. It was her cousin, yes?"

"Yes."

"I want to go with you."

Tenderness washed over him, and he closed his eyes against the urge to push inside her head. It was strong. He didn't even need to look at her eyes. He knew he could slip inside her head now with just the slightest effort…

"But someone will have to stay with Charlie. He's going to go to pieces. I don't want to be the one to tell him she's gone. You'll take Ron and Hermione? How long will you be gone?"

"I…I hadn't really planned that far. Maybe she'll change her mind." The thought of leaving Ginny was enough to tighten his chest. His want was strong, made stronger for having felt Ez's desired for Charlie. "Gin, I have to…I want you so…I should go. Ez needs some food…"

"Harry, you won't leave without telling me, will you? You'll say good-bye?"

"If we go, I'll say good-bye."

* * *

They were crowded around a kitchen table that over-flowed with plates and bowls heaped with amazing smelling foods. Potatoes, a Christmas goose, puddings and vegetables and hot, crusty breads smeared thickly with butter were passed around. Ron's plate quickly filled up, and he began piling food on Hermione's. Everyone chattered about fun, trivial things, and complimented Mrs. Weasley on her cooking. Somehow Ez had been seated next to her, and Mrs. Weasley spent much of the meal sneaking glances at her and Charlie.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione whispered.

"Nothing."

"Nonsense. Now, tell me what's going on. You've barely touched your food." Ron took a spoonful of potatoes from her plate and happily ate them down.

"I need to talk with you and Ron tonight," Harry said quietly. "After everyone's asleep."

There was a knock at the door, and the room went still. "Who could that be?" Mr. Weasley said. He peeked out the door's small window, and then turned to his wife in astonishment. "I say, Molly, it's Percy."

Her eyes went wide, and her usually red face molted with grey. "Well, let him in! It's cold out there!" She stood, clearly on pins and needles. "He's come for Christmas supper," she whispered under her breath. "My boy's come home."

"Father," Percy said as he entered. He pulled Penny in behind him. "Mother."

"Percy, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. She clearly wanted to throw herself at him, but she held her ground and wrung her hands. "It was good of you to come. Arthur, find them chairs!"

Percy put a hand up to stop his father. "I…er…that is, Penny and I…well..."

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Penny deftly said, and she gave a warm smile. "Mr. Weasley. Happy Christmas, everyone." There was a general murmur of "Harry Christmas" from around the table.

"Yes, yes. Happy Christmas," Mr. Weasley agreed. "Do have a seat, son. We've more than enough food – I know we have an extra chair or two around here somewhere…"

"Father, don't bother," Percy said. "We're rather late to – we can't stay, but I wanted to…er…well, that is…" He straightened his glasses. His normally sour face was now blank with anxiety, until his eyes landed on Ez. "Bloody hell," he breathed. "You're here, too?"

"Just one b-b-big, happy…" Her voice trailed off as Charlie glared at her. Without looking at him, but having heard him loud and clear, Ez cleared her throat and addressed Percy. "Now would be a g-good time to int-t-troduce your…" She gave a nod to Penny, who mouthed a hello at her.

"Right." Percy glanced adoringly at the witch beside him, dressed in festive red and gold robes. "Mum, Dad, Penny and I have news. We needed to keep things quite because her father was in for a bit of a promotion and, as I work so closely with the Minister, we had to be sure there wasn't even the slightest hint of impropriety. But now that he's taken up his new position, it's safe enough to tell you…" He swallowed, licked his thin lips. "Penny and I…well, that is…we…"

"I see," Mrs. Weasley said slowly, her eyes pinned on Penny. "Congratulations. And to your father, apparently." She sat down, and methodically replaced her napkin across her lap.

"Yes," said Penny. "Erm…thank you."

"Mum, she's my wife," Percy blurted out.

"Yes, dear. I have eyes." She sent a sideways glance to Ez, before returning to her potatoes.

"And that's it?" Percy pressed. "You don't have anything else to say?"

"Do you have anything else to say to me?" she asked, and then glanced pointedly at Ez.

Percy blinked. "What's she on about?" he asked Ez, and then Charlie.

"No, d-don't," Ez whispered to Charlie half a second before he leaned forward and asked an irritated, "Mum?"

The tension in the room was thick enough to send a chill down Harry's spine. Mrs. Weasley made to open her mouth when Mr. Weasley nervously cut in. "Welcome to the family, then!" He gave Penny a warm hug and a small kiss on the cheek. "I do wish we'd been able to share in the celebration, but, well. Was it a lovely wedding?"

"It was at the Ministry, you know?" Penny said quietly. "But we did honeymoon in Dover."

"See the White Cliffs, did you?" Mr. Weasley asked with a smile. "Muggles love the White Cliffs."

"Yes. We had a view from our room."

"Did you know?" Mr. Weasley said, delighted. He turned to Percy and offered him a hand. "Congratulations, son."

"Thank you, Father," Percy said, shaking his hand. "Thank you."

"Cheers," called Lupin, and he raised a wine glass. Tonks joined him in his salute, as did Charlie and then Ez. The twins continued to lean back in their chairs, surly and cross-armed. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, and then laid her head on Harry's shoulder. He could smell her shampoo, and felt the all-too familiar craving again. Gently, he pushed her away. Temptation was too close.

"I really miss you," he whispered.

"I know. Me, too."

"Is she expecting?" Mrs. Weasley asked, and the room went silent again. "Is that why you rushed to get married?"

"We didn't rush," Percy said.

"Yes, well, it seems to me you were in too much of a hurry to wait until after her father got his leg-up so that your family could see you married properly."

Mr. Weasley held up a hand to his wife. "Molly, please."

"I was properly married," Percy bit out. "And we didn't want to wait. And honestly, Mum, I didn't think you'd come anyway."

"I most certainly would have! Just because you didn't care enough to see Bill married-"

"I wasn't invited," Percy said, his jaw tight.

"What? You're part of this family!" she cried, standing. Her chair made a protest as it scraped back away from the table. "And you've done nothing but treat us with contempt!"

"That's not fair!" Percy objected.

"Where were you after Fudge was ousted? Why have you yet to apologize for the monstrous things you said to your father? You ignored the biggest day in Bill's life, and you carried on with Charlie's girl, when it's clear to everyone that he's besotted with the tart!"

"Mum!" Charlie protested. Ez closed her eyes, though she didn't seem surprised by the accusation. "You're talking about the mother of your first grandchild!"

"She's made you a cuckold, son," Mrs. Weasley said, glaring at Ez. "And with your own brother! And now that things have turned complicated, she wants to saddle you with Percy's responsibility!"

Outraged, Charlie jumped out of his chair. He slammed a fist on the table, and the dishes clattered. "Damn it, Mum! It's my baby! Mere's carrying _my_ child!"

"You're absolutely certain of that?" It was clear she wasn't. "I don't think you realize just how close they've become."

"On the contrary," Charlie ground out. "I'm acutely aware."

"Thanks, Mum," Percy clipped, "for reminding me why I cut ties in the first place. Come, Penny. We're finished here."

"Wait, son, please," Mr. Weasley said. He touched Percy's arm. "Don't let it end this way."

"It ended long ago, Dad. I just was too thick to accept it."

Mr. Weasley looked pained by Percy's declaration. He shook his head. "I'm happy for you. I've always thought highly of Penny." He gave her a small smile. "You'll take good care of my boy, yes?"

"Of course," she promised. "And he takes good care of me."

"That is as it should be," Mr. Weasley said.

"So, you're going to marry her, then?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, still tangled in her battle with Charlie. "It's not right! You're going to throw your life away-"

"_I love her!_" Charlie roared. "She's going to have my baby, and yes, I've asked her to marry me!"

Ez touched Charlie's arm, and he sucked in a breath. Calming, he closed his eyes. For a moment he was still, and then he left out a heavy breath and sat down again.

"D-don't worry," Ez told Mrs. Weasley. "He's asked. He's t-tried, but I t-t-told him no. No one's life is ruined."

A new sense of outrage poured off Mrs. Weasley, and if it was possible, her face went even darker. "He's not good enough, is he? My clever, handsome, talented boy isn't grand enough for you? Does he need a posh Ministry position to tempt you to do the right thing for once?"

"_Mum!_"

Ez scoffed. "So now it _is_ the r-r-right thing for m-me to m-marry Charlie?"

"It's not even his bastard, is it?" Mrs. Weasley pressed. "It's not even my grandchild at all!"

Ez's gaze shot to hers, and Mrs. Weasley gasped and took a step back. "What are…is that…you're a mind-reader…Legilimens…"

Charlie's eyes went wide, his face dropped. His voice shot up an octave as he grabbed Ez's shoulder. "Mere! What are you doing? Are you mad? Stop this instant!"

But she didn't stop, and Mrs. Weasley fell awkwardly back into her chair. Both Fred and George jumped up, wands raised.

"Unhand our mother!"

"Stop, bitch!"

"Wait!" Charlie yelled, and he threw a protective arm in front of Ez.

"Wait!" Harry called, and he reached out and forced George's wand down. "She's not hurting her! Don't cast!" Harry was less worried that they'd hurt Ez or the baby, and more concerned as to what she'd do to retaliate.

Mrs. Weasley's blue eyes were as round as Harry had ever seen, and her red face turned an oddly molted cream and dark red. She gasped again. "That can't be…oh, my stars…"

Percy shifted, slipped his hand into his wife's. His eyes flickered nervously over Ez. "I bloody hate it when she does that."

"You said she was a Legilimens, but didn't realize…did she do that to you often?" Penny asked, clearly unnerved.

"No. Hardly ever," Percy said. "I had no taste for it." And then he added quietly, "Her thoughts were always of Charlie."

"Oh…my stars…" Mrs. Weasly groaned. "Oh, Merlin. Oh…sweet Merlin…"

When Ez finally sat back in her chair, she stared blankly at her plate. Mrs. Weasley blinked, disoriented. She shook her head, as if trying to clear it. "I…don't know what to say…" She looked anxiously at Ez, and the words came slowly. "I'm…sorry, dear. Honestly…sorry. It looked like…I thought I saw…Percy…oh, my stars. I don't know…what came over me."

"I do," Ez said with a smirk. "I can be p-protective of Ch-ch-charlie, too. And, it's nice to see family loyalty, although it w-would be nicer for once to be on the receiving end. And, I wish it extended to P-p-percy."

Mrs. Weasley slowly lifted her eyes to her third child. "Oh, Percy." She pushed herself up from the chair and hurried around the table to him. She threw herself at him. "Oh, Percy! I'm so very sorry! Percy, my boy, please, come share Christmas supper with us! And you, Penny, dear, we must get to know you better."

"She's off her rocker!" Fred complained.

"That one's hexed her or something," George accused, narrowing his eyes on Ez. "She's using The Imperius Curse on our mum."

"Don't be daft," Ginny snapped at them. "Mum's not cursed."

"Maybe she's using it on you, too," George said, eyeing his sister.

Mr. Weasley must've caught Mrs. Weasley's eye then, because she turned to him as if surprised to see him standing there. Then, she grabbed his head to pull him down into a passionate kiss. He whimpered a little as he fought to keep up with her. Fred, George and Ron protested with shouts and waving arms. Ginny giggled. Harry was so shocked at the abrupt change in Mrs. Weasley that he didn't know how to react. Charlie looked just as lost for a moment, and then he shot a glare at Ez, who only smirked down at her goose.

"Merlin's beard," Mr. Weasley murmured when he was able to surface for air.

Mrs. Weasley licked her lips. "Arthur, can I see you upstairs?" She reached out and touched Penny's shoulder. "Welcome to the family, dear." Then she practically dragged Mr. Weasley up to their bedroom.

When they disappeared, Tonks leaned in over the table to Ez. "What was that? Did you get her hot and bothered? Interesting distraction technique."

"I had to p-p-prove to her I wasn't having an affair with P-percy," Ez said with a smirk. "I think I was c-convincing. She c-carries a disprop-p-portionate amount of guilt."

"No, no, no, no…" Charlie looked up the stairs in horror. "What the bloody hell did you show her? She's my _mum_, Mere. That's…that's disgusting!"

"Oh, relax. I d-didn't _show_ her anything. She p-picked up on the damn cravings, all right? After the f-fact."

A new thought flashed over Charlie's face. "You want me."

She glared at her plate. "You know I d-do."

"You love me," he said, as if pulling a lose bit of thread. He leaned close to her. Too close. Harry could see the flicker of panic in her eyes. "I love you. Let's go upstairs."

"Fuck off."

"Marry me, Mere. Bond with me. Let's be a family."

She put a hand to her head. "Why do you always d-do this in front of people?"

"We can go upstairs and be alone."

"D-drink your wine," she grumbled.

This surprised him. "Honestly? If I drink it?" She didn't answer right away, but slowly looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Honestly?" he asked again.

"I suppose it's C-c-c-christmas," she said with a resigned sigh.

Charlie grabbed his glass and gulped down its contents, and then downed Bill's and Harry's, as well.

Bill cleared his throat. "Will you join us now?" he asked Percy. "There's more than enough. Give us a chance to get to know your bride."

Percy didn't respond. He didn't move. Penny squeezed his hand. "Luv," she whispered, "your brother is asking you a question." When he finally turned to her, he looked as if he was coming out of a trance.

"We should go," he told her. "Now."

"All right, then."

On their way out, he gave Ez a withered look. Charlie looked between her and Percy, and then shot her a glare, but she stared resolutely at her plate and moodily pushed the mashed potatoes around.

* * *

The fire had died down an hour before, and a chill was starting to settle over the living room. Ginny sat next to Harry, her legs tucked underneath her, a glass of Firewhiskey in her hand. Glassy-eyed, she hadn't said a word in a long while. Neither had Ron and Hermione.

On the small couch opposite him, his friends shared a blanket and one last glass of wine. There wasn't really much to be said. Harry had told them that if Ez tried to leave, he would go with her, at least until the baby was born, and Hermione and Ron had promised – in no uncertain terms – that they would be there with Harry, every step of the way. Neither of them was happy about it. They didn't understand why Harry felt compelled to help Charlie's girl, or why he would postpone the Horcrux search for her. He didn't point out that he'd postponed it already for all of them.

When Ginny began to slump against him, Harry kissed her forehead and whispered, "Come on."

"My head is spinning," she complained. "Can't we snog here?"

"It's late," Harry told her. "You're tired. Come on. I'll help you up to bed." He stood, his own body heavy with fatigue, and held out a hand to her.

She dropped her palm against his, and tugged him down on top of her. He went willingly, letting her pull him into an easy embrace, a soft kiss. Her tongue burned from the Firewhiskey, and it pulled a growl from his throat.

"Not here," he whispered against her lips. "Let's go upstairs."

She slipped sideways on the couch, and tugged him between her legs. Her fingers slipped under his shirt and jumper, skimmed up his sides. A shiver tickled between his shoulders, and his skin puckered. His resolve dipped and he felt himself trying to slip into her head. Frustration fueled his cravings. "Upstairs," he whispered again.

"Touch me," she whimpered. She pushed his hand over her breast, and sucked his bottom lip between her teeth. His body responded the way it used to.

"Please," he gasped. "Upstairs."

"They don't care," she said, and nodded to Ron and Hermione, who were in much the same position. "Just touch me."

He slipped his hand down between her legs and pressed. She gasped, her eyes rolled back in pleasure. "I think it's been long enough, Ginny. Let's go upstairs."

"Right." In her zeal to get out from under him, she ended up in a heap on the floor. Harry tried to stifle his chuckle as he helped her to her feet. She was a bit wobbly, and dipped backwards.

"Easy, there," Harry said, catching her.

"Need some help?" Ron gallantly asked, without breaking lip contact with Hermione. His hand was already up her skirt.

"I've got her," Harry told him, trying to focus on Ginny and the stairs. Hermione's hand had slipped inside the waist of Ron's trousers. When was she going to develop the boundaries Ez had waxed poetic about? Harry wished she'd sprout one or two now.

The stairs were steeper and narrower with a drunk, wiggly girl in his arms. She began kissing his neck, and lost all interest in walking. Harry had to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way to her room.

"_Impervius_ the door," she reminded as he dumped her on the bed. He pulled out his wand and was about to shut the door when he caught sight of something dark moving down the stairs.

"Ez?"

She jumped. "Fuck, Harry! You sc-c-cared the shit out of me." She had a bag thrown over her cloaked shoulder.

"Are you kidding me?" he cried. "Now? You're leaving now? But…" Ginny was lying on her back, and her eyes were fluttering closed. "Shit!"

Ez glanced back up the stair. "It has to be n-now. Listen, w-when he w-wakes up, don't let on that you saw me, all right? He's going to be a m-maniac."

"Don't move," he told her, holding out a hand as if that would stop her. "I've got to say good-bye to Ginny and get my bag."

She gave him a wistful smile. "Oh, Harry. That's sweet. And th-th-thank you for my Christmas present. G-g-go make love to your g-girlfriend. And remember – you never saw me."

She started down the stairs.

"Harry?" Ginny's eyes sparkled in the white moonlight. She held out a limp hand to him.

"I'll be right back."

Ez was already sneaking past Hermione and Ron going at it on the couch when Harry trampled down the stairs.

"Oi!" said Ron. He jumped off the couch and struggled with the front of his trousers while Hermione furiously tried to button up her shirt.

Ez didn't take any notice of them, and Harry barely made it to the door ahead of her to block her way. "I need fifteen minutes. That's it."

"Look, it's cute that you think you can protect me, but-"

"I don't think that. But I've seen what's going on in side your head. I'm not letting you go alone. You need someone with you. Especially now."

"And that someone is you?"

"Better me than Charlie," Harry said flatly.

Ez narrowed her eyes on him. "I'll be fine alone."

"I thought that, too. I thought I was meant to be alone. I thought that if I was on my own, then no one else would have to die. No more Dumbledores or Siriuses…or Mum or Dad. There would be no more sacrifices made for me. I thought I could protect them by leaving them behind. I reckon that's what happens when we're on our own too long, we start to believe that's the way it's supposed to be. But it's not. Ez you need help. Let us help you."

"Us?" she turned and saw Hermione and Ron standing behind her. Then she rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Ron asked, defensively. "We've seen our share of Death Eaters! We can hold our own in a duel."

"I don't need protection," she insisted. "I need to get away. I need to know Charlie's life isn't dependant on my willpower to resist him. I need to divert attention away from him and his family. When my cousin finds me, he can't find me here."

"So, where are we going?" Hermione asked, arms crossed.

The clock in the living room began to chime.

"No…" Ez whimpered under her breath. Then she whipped out her wand, and cast a Shove Hex on Harry. It caught him off guard enough that she was out the door and racing toward the orchard by the time Ron held out a hand to help him to his feet. The three of them were young and fast, but Ez was surprisingly quick. She ran through the orchard and toward the pond. Ron began to gain on her. As she neared the shore he tackled her, and the two of them went down in a rolling tumble. Ez's hand managed to grasp a half-broken bottle of Firewhisky that had been standing up on a large rock near the shore, and two seconds later they both vanished.

"_Ron!_" Hermione screeched. "Ron!" She grabbed Harry's arm as they slowed. "Harry, where did they go?" The two of them came to a stop, chests heaving in the frigid night air. "_Harry, where's Ron?_"

He didn't have a clue.


	24. Chapter 23 The Family Wizmere

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 23 – The Family Wizmere

Harry and Hermione reasoned it through. Ron and Ez had left by Portkey, and there was only one place a witch could get a Portkey that fast and without a load of money - and over the Christmas hols. And, there were only two people Ez knew who had that kind of access to the Ministry. Tonks had answered their frantic owl for help. Percy had not.

"She's gone?" Tonks echoed, clearly stunned. She'd arrived in her pink and yellow cheetah print flannels and a worn and mended, conservative dressing gown that obviously belonged to Lupin. "But…gone?"

Lupin stood beside her, face still puffy from sleep, hands buried in his tattered cardigan sweater. "I think the real concern is that Ron went with her."

Tonks cast a nervous glance up the Burrow's stair. "So, he doesn't know yet? I don't hear any yelling."

"We thought it wise not to wake him," Hermione explained. "At least not until we know where they went."

"So, you're going to help him find her, are you?" Tonks carefully asked. "If she's left, she must've had a reason, yeah? And, if she didn't even tell me…"

"We're going to get Ron back," Hermione flatly told her.

"But it's not as if he's been kidnapped. Surely he can make it back on his own."

"Then where is he?" Hermione cried. "Why hasn't he Apparated back? When is the return on the Portkey set for?"

"Mere!" Charlie limped down the stairs without his walking stick. He held a hand to the wall to hold himself up while his other was clamped firmly on the side of his head. He wore nothing but red flannel pajama trousers, and his pale, splotched neck and chest were covered in obvious mouth-sized love bites. "I know I started to sober, Mere, I'm sorry. My bleeding head is killing me. I'll have another drink, don't worry. Come back to bed, luv."

They all stood there, afraid to speak, and after a couple of moments of silence Charlie finally opened his eyes. "Nym? Remus? Is it morning already? Where's the bloody Firewhiskey?"

Tonks licked her lips and took a deep breath. "It wasn't me, Charlie."

"What wasn't you?" He didn't catch the anxiety in her tone as he limped past them all into the kitchen. He rummaged through the pantry until he found a bottle of something clear, pulled off the cork and sniffed. Whatever it was smelled potent. Charlie recorked, and headed back to the stairs. Then he froze as his gaze landed on Harry. Recognition flashed in his angular, blue eyes.

"Oh, Merlin…no."

It was as if his mind started working, processing everything at once. Charlie whirled around, taking in all of the faces. "Mere? No…" He dropped the bottle and bolted up the stairs as fast as he could with his bad leg. "_Esmerelda!_"

"Bloody hell," Tonks swore under her breath.

Lupin pulled out a wand and cleaned up the broken bottle and mess just as a door upstairs opened.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Weasley sounded groggy. "What's wrong? Charlie?"

"Son, is everything all right?"

Charlie didn't answer them. He kept calling for Ez as he ran up and down the stairs desperately checking rooms.

"What the bloody hell is it?" Bill sounded angry. "It's bleeding one in the morning! We'd better be under attack."

"Bill? What eez eet?"

"Nothing, dear. Charlie's gone mad."

"Harry?" Ginny's voice.

"Oh, great." Harry had forgotten he left Ginny in her room. He bounded up the stairs, and found her peaking out of her door. She looked as if she'd been sleeping.

"What's happened?" she asked. She swayed a little, and then leaned heavily against the jamb. "I'm still good. Come here." She reached for him, but he took her hand and firmly held it still.

"Ginny, Ez left by Portkey. Ron went with her."

She blinked, as she absorbed this new in formation. She seemed to sober a bit. "Ron? Why?" Ginny asked.

"_Portkey?_" Charlie demanded. "Where the bloody hell did she get a Portkey? Nym!"

"It wasn't me!" Tonks insisted, as she hurried up the stairs. "Honest, Charlie, I didn't know anything about it."

His face was red and contorted by panic. "No, no, no, no…" He leaned back against the wall. "No, of course you didn't." He slammed his head back against the wall, and the whole house shook from the impact. "_Fuck!_"

"Charlie…" Tonks began, but she didn't follow it up with anything. She touched his arm and he looked down at her hand, clearly dazed. Then she said, "We'll find her."

"No, we won't. She's gone." He slid down to the floor, his legs flopped out across the landing. "I knew she would." He stared past the wall opposite him. "She's gone."

"Yes, well, so is Ron."

"Ron?" Mr. Weasley asked while Mrs. Weasley gasped. "No, don't worry, luv, he can Apparate himself home."

"Yes, but he hasn't!" Hermione was quick to point out. "He won't leave her unless he thinks it's safe. She's pregnant, and from what Harry has told us, she's not exactly right in the head these days."

"Ez can take care of herself," Charlie said absently.

"Not like she is now, she can't," Harry insisted.

"No, Charlie's right," Tonks said. "I've seen her come out of scrapes no one else would survive. Remember, she escaped the Death Eaters that captured her in Godric's Hollow."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "And remember that she got captured in Godric's Hollow. They got her-"

"_He_ got her," Charlie corrected, and then he roared. In a fit of impotent fury, his fists slammed the floor, his head banged into the wall behind him. "_I'm going to kill that son of a bitch!_"

"Talking about me?" All eyes turned to see Percy standing below them on the stairs. "I came as quickly as I could. But I must warn you that I won't lead you to her unless she says it's all right."

Charlie's brows rose, and the rage completely contorted his face. Fleur gasped at the transformation, and Lupin tightened his grip on his wand. Would he cast against his Secret Keeper? Could he? Harry didn't think he could, even to protect someone else.

"_You!_ It was you! My illustrious brother Percy and his Ministry connections - so, that's why she Read you at supper. Bravo, Mere!" he muttered under his breath. "You always knew how to twist the dagger a little deeper." He struggled to stand, and Tonks had to help him. "Tell me where she is you bastard, or I swear I'll kill you, too!"

"Your threats mean nothing to me," Percy said, jutting his pointed chin in the air.

"And what about mine?" Hermione asked pointedly. She was seething. "Ron got caught in the Portkey, too, you know? Where did you send him?"

"Ron?" Percy looked unnerved. "No, that's not right. She said she was going alone."

"Obviously there was a change in plans. Ron went with her, and he hasn't returned. He would've come back by now if it were safe to do-"

"I hope," Percy said, narrowing his eyes on Hermione, "that you're not suggesting I would send a pregnant witch who happens to be a personal friend, into harm's way. She's perfectly-"

"Percy, you know her family is after her," Tonks interjected. "You know her cousin must be looking for her."

Percy's face dropped, and his eyes searched back into memory. "She…she said she needed a place to stay for a couple of months. She said someplace out of the way, so I thought-"

"Where is Ron?" Hermione demanded.

Percy pursed his lips. He didn't like her tone, but at least he had the sense not to press the issue. "I'll go. I have a small cottage in southern France."

"You have a cottage?" Mrs. Weasley breathed.

Percy flushed a little. "It's…humble. But there's running water, and a view-"

"Shut up about the bloody cottage and take me there now!" Charlie barked. He hobbled down the stairs to his brother, who shrank back a step before Charlie grabbed his wrist. "Now!"

"I'd rather go alone," Percy told him.

"I don't give a buggering fuck what you'd rather," Charlie shouted. "Now!"

Hermione reached for and grabbed Charlie's shoulder, and at the last possible moment Harry grasped a lock of her hair. The next thing he knew he was being squeezed so tightly he thought his head would burst.

When there was solid ground beneath his feet it was wet. Harry blinked, but the shapes in the dark didn't make any sense. The wind was terribly cold. A hand slipped into his.

"This way." It was Hermione. He let her lead him past the sound of retching. "It's Charlie," she told him. "Apparating and hangovers don't mix well. The cottage is just here."

It was dark, and there was a smell of the ocean in the air. There were trees and bushes, and then the mass of a structure. The cottage door was locked, but Hermione easily opened it with a tap of her wand. Then she tapped Harry's glasses, and his vision instantly cleared. Both the dark and the Apparation had him disoriented or he would've realized they were fogged over. He hated Apparating.

The inside of the cottage looked to be one sparsely furnished room. The fireplace was dark. Hermione cast a spell at the light the sconces, but the cold stillness made it clear that no one was home.

"I don't understand," Percy said, coming in behind them, a shoulder under Charlie's arm. "They should be here. Is there a note?"

"No," Charlie said. "She knew I'd come looking for her. She wouldn't have stayed." He hobbled to a wood chair at the small round table. His skin was puckered from the cold, and he was shivering. He wasn't even wearing shoes. "This is what I do to her." He leaned forward, head in hands.

Hermione made a noise, and Harry turned to find her fighting back tears in eyes wide with panic. "Where is he? Harry? We have to find him."

He nodded. He'd never seen her with that look on her face before, and he wasn't sure quite what to do. "Charlie, where would they go?"

He shook his head. "She's gone. She's just gone."

"No, they're not!" Hermione cried. "They're somewhere!"

"You don't understand," Charlie said, deflated. "We won't find her."

"But where would she go?"

"Somewhere she knows I won't look. Someplace I don't know about. Someplace I won't find her. Don't you see? She's not playing around." Charlie shook his head. "She's just…"

"Ron!" she shouted at him. "It's about Ron! _RON!_ I don't care about Esmerelda! I want to find Ron! He's your brother for magic's sake! Don't you care that he's missing?"

"He's of age. He'll come home when he's ready," Charlie said with a shrug. "She won't keep him. I'd be surprised if she's not pissed as hell that he's with her. Probably trying to ditch him as we speak." He glanced around the cottage. "I need a drink."

"If he's not back, then it's not safe," Hermione said. "That's what we decided, isn't it? That he's going to stay with her until he knows she's safe?"

"Makes sense," Harry agreed. "I mean, Ez's baby will be his nephew. Or niece, right? It's his family, and we know how protective Ron is of his family. He might even feel protective of Ez on Charlie's behalf."

"Yes, he's remarkably old fashioned when it comes to things like this. She's pregnant, so therefore she needs protecting." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because pregnant witches are completely helpless."

"She's gone mental," Harry said quietly, "and therefore needs protecting. If she's not in her right mind then there will be another Godric's Hollow. Her family-"

"Then we have to make it safe for her," Hermione said succinctly. The fire in her eyes was back, and the panic was pushed away. "If that's what has to happen for Ron to come home, then that's what we have to do."

"So…we kill Voldemort?" Harry asked. Percy flinched. "We're going to do that anyway. We need Ron for that."

"Not Voldemort," Hermione said.

"Could you please not use that name?" Percy prissily asked.

Harry knew what Hermione meant. It wasn't Voldemort that kept Ez from Bonding with Charlie. "Her cousin," he said. "Standau." His blood ran cold. "Hermione, we can't-"

"I can," she told him.

"You're talking about killing a wizard. You're talking about murder."

"So, it's murder when we eliminate the threat to Esmerelda's life, but it's not when we destroy the threat to yours?"

"Voldemort's killed a lot of people! He's the driving force for evil in the world!"

"And her cousin isn't? He's a Death Eater, Harry. He's killed people. He's raped Ez. And you said it yourself, he won't stop coming after her."

"She said that," Harry corrected. "That's what she thinks."

"And since Ron's still missing, I suspect that's what he thinks as well," Hermione snapped. "This is how I get Ron back." She turned to Charlie. "And how you get Mere back."

"Mere…" he whispered.

"What would you do to have her back, Charlie?"

"Anything," he breathed.

"But…Hermione, this is mental! It's not like Ron will be gone forever! Just until the baby's born. Or sooner, if he can find a safe place for her. Or even sooner, maybe. He might be back at the Burrow now, waiting for us! He's obviously not here."

"Oh." The anger in her face, the ferocity died away to a cool, neutral expression Harry hadn't seen her wear for a long time. "I understand," she said slowly, and resolution fixed her face with a look of stony determination. "Of course, Harry, I wouldn't expect you to come with-"

"What? This is insane! Hermione, you're talking about murdering someone you've never met – someone you've never even heard of except through me! You can't do this!"

"She's right," Charlie muttered. "I mean, no, you're not coming, Hermione. But you're right. I should've taken care of him a long time ago. I'll do it now."

"Easy, Charlie," Percy said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder when he began to rise. "Don't you think you should sober up before you leave on a murder mission?"

"It won't be murder," Charlie told him. "More like suicide. No, no, I'm kidding. Once Standau knows I'm back in the country - and I'll make it known - he'll come for me. I'll make myself available. A clear cut case of self-defense."

"You'll need help," Hermione insisted.

Charlie pointed a blunt finger at her. "No."

"We should all go back to the Burrow." Percy's suggestion fell on deaf ears.

"Do you know how he'll attack?" Hermione asked. "You know what he'll do?"

Charlie shrugged and sat back in the chair, eyes closed and mouth open. He breathed deeply. "Standau is the definition of bedlam. But he's a persistent bugger. And he's not very creative. I reckon I could make an educated guess about how he'll come after me."

"Good," Hermione said, and already Harry could see her mind working. "We can come up with a plan, then. A defense."

"It shouldn't be too hard – no! Absolutely not!" Charlie insisted. "You're not coming!"

"Because I'm a girl?"

"Because Ron would kill me, yes. And because…Hermione. You're not doing this for Ez or me, you're doing this for Ron. And this isn't Ron's fight. He'll stay out of things, and when he's ready to surface he will."

"You need help," Hermione told him. "You can't fight this Standau person alone. Can you?"

This gave Charlie pause. He inhaled deeply and pushed his palm to his head. "Honestly? No, I can't. It's not that he's especially powerful, or even that good in a duel, but he's got a bloody army at his disposal. That family – I don't know how to explain them. They're merciless. And because of that, there's no room for a dissenter among them. That's why Mere had to run at fourteen. She was just a kid, but she had to run for her life. They will all fight to the death for Standau, because if they don't they'll end up dead anyway – or worse. That makes them incredibly dangerous. And right now, that family doesn't know you. You're off their radar. Hermione, you need to keep it that way."

"And what happens when they find out that Esmerelda has had your child? What will her family do?" Hermione pressed. "I can't imagine that a family like that would feel too kindly to their genes co-mingling with a bloodtraitor's. You become Standau's next target, Charlie, and so does your baby. And your whole family. Including Ron. I can't leave this alone until I know Ron is safe."

"But taking out Standau isn't going to stop the family," Harry argued. "If anything it will piss them off even more."

"Not if we get Lazarius."

"Lazarius?" Harry asked.

"Wait," Hermione gasped. "Lazarius, as in Lazar Wizmere? But…he's dead."

Charlie raised his brows. "I can assure you that he's not."

"He was killed by a mob during the Death Eater trials after Voldemort was killed the first time." She screwed up her face as she tried to retrieve the memory of some passage she'd read in some book at some time in her life. Really, Hermione's ability to retain useful minutia was amazing. "He and his wife Elizabeth were Pummeled to death."

"It's Erzsébet," Charlie grumbled. "And she's a sadistic bitch. Powerful, too. She's where Mere gets her Legilimency talent."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Hermione said.

"Her grandmother," Charlie supplied. "Yeah. Lazarius and Erzsébet Wizmere are Mere's grandparents."

Hermione's mouth opened as if to say something, but nothing came out.

"They're famous, then?" Harry asked. "Why haven't I heard of them?"

"Because you never paid attention in History of Magic," Hermione snapped. "They're Dark wizards, Harry. Lazar was the one who orchestrated the Slaughter of Innocents the same year you got that scar. He's why there are no more unicorns in continental Europe anymore."

"Oh, it's worse than unicorns," Charlie muttered. "Lazarius is a Necromancer. We happen to think he's _the_ Necromancer." He looked at Harry. "Remember that smell of witch hazel?"

Then Charlie shook his head, and dropped it down into his hands, elbows propped on the table. "The whole family is terrified of him. Because death isn't the very worst that can happen if they cross him."

"Ez crossed him," Harry reminded them.

"And she's paid dearly. Not as dearly as they'd like, but she's been made to suffer. I thought…I wanted to rescue her from that. I thought I could show her what family really means."

"And what is that?" Percy asked, his voice sharply bitter.

Charlie glanced up at him. "You're here, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Percy said. "I'm here." They shared a look, a brotherly moment that Harry understood enough to know he wished he'd had a brother - even a prat like Percy.

"Well, I'm not," Charlie quipped. "I know what I've got to do now. Thanks, Percy, for bringing me here. And Hermione for reminding me that I can still protect her. And thanks, Harry. You helped Mere when I couldn't. For that I'll always be grateful to you."

"Now, Charlie," Percy counseled. "Let's go back to the-"

Before he got the sentence out Charlie Disapparated.

"Oh, bugger that!" Percy swore. "Now what am I going to tell Mum?"

* * *

The moment they walked through the Burrow door, Ron was on them. "Where the bloody hell have you-"

Hermione jumped into his arms and knocked the rest of the question out of his lungs. She clutched him, and he held her tight. With a hand to the back of her head, and his cheek to hers, Ron looked at Harry. "What happened?"

"You Portkeyed out is what happened!"

Ginny came down the stairs then, along with a grumpy-looking Bill and a yawning Fleur.

Ez was in the living room, but she hung back as Mrs. and Mrs. Weasley rushed into the kitchen to greet them.

"You're back," Harry said, stating the obvious. He still couldn't believe it. But Ez was there, looking sick and pensive. He could tell she was dreading seeing Charlie again. Harry didn't know how to tell her she wouldn't be. "Why did you come back?"

"Ron is p-p-persuasive."

"She passed out," Ron told them, with more than a little irritation in his tone. Hermione finally pulled away enough to look at him. There were tears in her eyes. Ron continued, "We got to – well, wherever we were – and she passed out cold."

"The P-p-portkey was disorienting," Ez grumbled.

"The healer said she's not eating enough," Ron said. "And she's not sleeping enough, and she's too stressed."

She gave him a glare. "She wasn't a real healer. She d-d-didn't know what she was t-talking about."

"How did you get her back here?" Hermione asked.

"I had to go through the Ministry's Ambassador in France. He gave us special medical dispensation to Portkey home right away." Ron seemed proud of his ingenuity. "I'm supposed to take her to St. Mungo's, but…"

"It's n-n-n-not s-safe."

"You need to see a real healer," Ron insisted. "You passed out cold!"

"I w-w-w-was just d-d-d-d-dizzy!"

"You don't look at all well," Percy told her. "At least sit down."

She ignored him. Her gaze once again fell on the door. "Where's Ch-ch-ch-ch…wh-wh-where is he?"

"Ez…you should sit down."

"P-percy, where's your b-b-brother?" When he didn't answer her right away she turned to Harry, alarmed. "Wh-what has he d-d-d-done?"

"You weren't at the cottage," Harry said slowly.

"Ron d-d-dragged me away," she snapped. "Where the f-f-fuck is Charlie? Oh…oh, no…" Her gaze slipped to Hermione. "R-r-romania? St-st-st…but…" She went as pale as Harry had ever seen, and began to wobble. "No…"

Ron's reflexes were fast, and he was able to untangle with Hermione and grab Ez before she began to sink to the floor. "Easy now," he cooed, his earlier irritation gone. "The couch is over here." He settled her down and propped her feet up on the stuffed arm.

_You let him go!_

Harry grabbed his head. Ez's raging thoughts were like flashes of lightning in his brain. Memories tangled with dark, boiling emotions, and it was difficult to hear her voice through the storm. The onslaught made him dizzy, turned his stomach. He felt hands grabbing at him. A chair was pushed under him.

_He can't take on Standau alone! We couldn't do it together, what makes him think…fuck! It's suicide!_

_He said as much,_ Harry admitted. She found the memory, hovering on top.

_"I know what I've got to do now," _Charlie had said. The memory was fresh, and Harry felt Ez watching over his shoulder. _"Thanks, Percy, for bringing me here. And Hermione for reminding me that I can still protect her. And thanks, Harry. You helped Mere when I couldn't. For that I'll always be grateful to you."_

_He was still drunk,_ Ez thought through despair. _Fuck, Harry!_

_I couldn't stop him._

_I know. But I have to._ She struggled to get up, but faltered, and Harry's head and stomach lurched. He fell out of the chair as she tumbled back on to the couch. Ginny was there beside him, grabbing for his head, his arms. She looked terrified.

"Harry?" Hermione sounded worried. "Ron, what's going on?"

"She's Reading him," he said grimly. "She's making him sick."

"I'm all right," he told Ginny. "It's Ez. She's-"

"S-s-s-s-sorry." Harry felt Ez shove him out, and was surprised at how weak the force was. He blinked at her. The nausea receded.

Percy stepped closer. "Ez," he said gently. "Let me help you upstairs."

"I'll do that," Mrs. Weasley said, coming forward as well. "Come along, dear. You'll do better after a long rest."

"I c-c-c-an't-t. Ch-ch-ch-ch…he doesn't have t-t-t-t…I have to g-g-go."

"Not again!" Ron wailed. "Give us a break, will you?"

She grabbed the front of Percy's shirt. "Ch-ch-ch-ch…d-die!" Her eyes were wide, and she searched Percy's, but Harry could tell she didn't push into his head. He didn't think she had the energy to do it. "H-h-have to g-g-g-g-g…"

"What is she on about?" Mr. Weasley asked. "Who's going to die? Surely not Charlie. He's a smart lad; he knows to keep out of-"

Ez tried to pull away from Percy, but she wasn't steady enough on her feet. "Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch…"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Do something! Something's going to happen to Charlie!"

"What is going on here?" Mr. Weasley demanded. "Where did Charlie go? Romania, you said?"

"He's going after Ez's cousin," Harry told him.

"What do you mean 'going after'? Charlie's not going to hurt him-"

"He's going to kill him!" Hermione cried. "Or try."

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Weasley said with a stamp of her foot. "Charlie wouldn't hurt a gnome."

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, reigning in her anxiety. "I don't think you understand just who Ez's cousin is. They're Wizmeres." Both of Ron's parents went very still. "Lazar Wizmere is Esmerelda's grandfather."

"Oh…sweet Merlin," Mr. Weasley said. "But surly now that Lazar Wizmere is dead-"

"He's not," Harry informed. "None of them are dead."

"It's…it's not possible," Mrs. Weasley gasped. "The Ministry confirmed-"

Percy went a little gray around the edges.

"They're not dead," Hermione emphatically said. "And what's more, Charlie is planning an attack. He's going to try to kill Ez's cousin. On his own."

"But…but that's…"

"Suicide," Percy said grimly. "We have to stop him."

_I need a Portkey,_ Ez thought to Harry. _Tell Percy I need to get to Romania._

"We're going to need another Portkey," Harry told Percy. "Can you arrange it?"

"N-n-n-n-n-not w-w-we," Ez stammered.

"Like you can even walk on your own," Ron grumbled. "Count me in."

"Absolutely not!" Mr. Weasley told him.

"He's my brother!" Ron said. "And I'm not letting her go alone!" And then he seemed to remember Hermione, and he gave her a sheepish look.

"Yes, we're all going," she said flatly.

"All, then," Ginny agreed.

"Oh, no you're not," Mrs. Weasley said. "You are still a year away from being of age-"

"Nine months!" Ginny protested. "And if Ron and Percy are going-"

"I'm…I'm not going," Percy said. He gave Ez a sad look. "I'm sorry. I can't. I have a wife now-"

"It's OK-k-k-k-k-k-k…" _Tell him I need him to get the Portkey now._

"She understands," Harry told Percy. "She just needs you to get a Portkey." He felt Ez slip out of his head.

"It won't be easy," he warned. "But I'll do everything I can." Percy placed a small kiss on Ez's forehead. "Rest until I come back. And eat something."

She grabbed Percy's head before he could turn away, and held it as she stared into his eyes. It was a testiment as to how exhausted she was - most of the time she didn't even have to look at a person to Read them. Percy gasped when she pushed inside his mind, and the two of them faltered together. Both Ron and Hermione steadied them. Harry shook his head. Things were starting to get ridiculous.

"Oh, dear Merlin…" Mrs. Weasley began. "Is she Reading him again?"

"I dare say," Mr. Weasley said under his breath to her. "She has such a pronounced stutter."

"Are we really going with her?" Harry quietly asked Ron .

"Of course we are," Hermione snapped, and she glared a warning look at Harry. He glared right back.

Ron glanced from Harry to Hermione. "What are you two on about?"

"Well, Charlie has gone to Romania to kill her cousin and her grandfather-"

"They deserve it!" Hermione insisted.

"It's still murder," Harry reminded.

Ron considered them both. "I'm not going to kill anyone, but she can't go alone. And I've got to save my brother…I mean, he's my brother!"

"Exactly," Hermione said with a firm nod.

"Hermione," Harry breathed. He knew her motives weren't as altruistic as Ron's. "Just promise me you won't do anything."

"I don't know what you mean," she said, raising her chin defiantly. She knew exactly what he meant.

Ron, though, didn't. "What _are_ you on about?" He looked suspiciously between them. "What's going on?"

Just then Percy jerked back as if shoved, and Ez fell against Hermione so hard that it took an arm from Harry to help catch her.

"She needs to eat," Percy grumbled. He turned to his parents. "Mum, she - she needs to eat."

"I'll feed her, dear," Mrs. Weasley said with a nod. "Don't you fret over it."

Mr. Weasley looked troubled. "Son, what are you going to do? Will this get you into trouble at work?"

"I hope not," Percy said. "But it hardly matters. Ez is right. Charlie has to be stopped before he gets himself killed."

"Hurry," Ez urged. "P-p-p-p-percy…he c-c-could b-be there b-b-b-by n-now."

"I won't be long," he assured. Once he Disapparated, Ron and Hermione helped Ez up to Percy's old room where she'd been staying to rest while Mrs. Weasley made a plate for her.

Ginny's hand slipped into Harry's. "This is it, isn't it? This is when you leave."

"No," Mr. Weasley said, a frown on his face. "Charlie is my son and my Secret Keeper. I'll go after him. I want you kids-"

"We're hardly kids anymore," Harry told him.

With an appraising look and a sad nod, Mr. Weasley agreed. "Ginny's not going."

"But Dad!" Her eyes glistened with the Firewhiskey still in her blood.

"I will have your word, Harry. You will not take my daughter to Romania. And, you will do everything you can to keep yourself, and Ron and Hermione safe – that includes running away if you have to. I'm not oblivious to what you've already faced in your life, but I'm afraid you have no concept of just what Lazar Wizmere was capable of in his day. I won't pretend he's on the same level as Voldemort, no, but his is an insidious, merciless, vindictive evil. Sweet Merlin, Harry, I wish you wouldn't go. I'll go. I'll take Bill-"

"Mr. Weasley," Harry said to stop that particular train of thought. "I won't take Ginny-"

"Harry!"

"No, Ginny. Your father's right. You'd be a great fighting asset to us, but there's no way - even with you - we could win in a fight. Not against all of them. The Wizmeres are a large family, for Pure Bloods, and very well connected. No, if we're going to succeed, we're going to have to sneak in, grab Charlie, and race home. The fewer there are of us, the easier it will be to escape intact."

"So you want me to sit home and twiddle my thumbs while you play hero? Again?" She looked distraught. "Is that really the kind of girl you want? Is that who you think I am?"

"I think you're the bravest, prettiest, strongest girl I've ever known. I think you're loyal and kind, and I think you understand that Ron has decided Ez is his responsibility, and Hermione won't let him go without her, and where they go, I must follow. We're a team. That's how we work."

"I want to be part of that team," she said, her eyes centered on his chest. She touched him there. "But I never will be. Will I?"

"I hope not," Harry said quietly, honestly. "I see what it does to Ron. And Hermione."

"Yeah." She took his hand. "We have tonight, then. Until Percy gets back at any rate. And my head is swimming. Let's go snog." She pulled him to the stairs.

"Er…Ginny, darling," Mr. Weasley called after them. "Leave your door open, won't you?"

"Of course," she said.

When she closed her door she Imperviused it, as well. "How long does it take to make a Portkey?" she asked as she whipped her top off and dropped it on the floor behind her. Even without the lights on, Harry could make out the shape of her full breasts, the dark circles of her nipples, and the way they moved with each step that she took. He'd seen her naked before, but he didn't think he would ever get used to it.

"A couple of hours at least, wouldn't you say?" She looked expectantly at him, but she chose that moment to slip her thumbs inside the waist of her pajama bottoms, and shove them to her ankles. When she stepped out of them she stood naked in the moonlight; all curves and plains and lovely ginger curls that looked as soft as he knew they were.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare?" she asked, and placed a hand on one perfect hip. "Take 'em off, Potter."

His shirt and jumper were easy to lose, and his trousers were as simple as a button and zipper. He shoved his pants down, and she smiled at his semi. Her slim hand smoothed over her own belly, and he twitched.

"How drunk are you?" Harry asked. The tension in him could very well be their undoing. He'd managed not to Read her all that day, but the cravings were stronger now that she was starkers.

"Dunno," she admitted. "But my head is still…foggy. Swimming. A bit. Can you Read me?"

"No! Ginny, you have to drink-" He couldn't drink for her, he needed to be ready to go as soon as Percy returned.

"Just try," she urged. "We won't Bond unless we make love, right? Just try to Read me, and if you can I'll have some Firewhiskey."

"Why not just have some now?"

"Because this might be our last time. For a while," she hastily added. "I want to remember every second of it. I want it to be as clear as it can be."

Harry wanted that, too. Harry stepped closer to her, and stared deeply into her eyes. They were a beautiful brown, dark and bottomless. He felt as if he could fall inside her…but he didn't. He tried again.

"I can feel you. I can tell you're there, but I can't get in." He wanted in. He wanted her.

"Good, then," she said, and slid her hands up his chest, and over his shoulders. She pressed her body against his, and he held her to him. She cupped his cheek, smiled, and slipped his glasses off.

"But I can't see-"

"You don't need to see," she whispered. Then her mouth covered his, and all protests were silenced and forgotten.

The kiss was deep and slow and sensual, and it stoked the fire in him. He could feel the boundaries of her mind, dense and impenetrable; his desire to breach them blazed. He pushed her down on to the bed, and she pulled him with her. Their legs tangled, and they struggled to right their position without breaking the steady nips of teeth and tongues. Her growl sent a bolt of desired down to his core. He leaned to one side, throwing off their balance enough for their lips to break apart with a wet smack, and cupped her breast. She moaned breathlessly. He smoothed his hand over her belly. Months of being locked inside Hogwarts without Quidditch had cost her some definition there, and he reveled in the softness.

Her hand found his, and their fingers played for a moment. And then an inch to the right, and her forefinger ran along the side of his cock. He had to fight the urge to twitch - he didn't want anything to stop her slow, steady progress up the length of him. She circled the head, and he whimpered. She giggled. His heart clenched.

Her mind was still closed to him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the want.

With her legs bent up on either side of him, and the feel of cool bottoms of her feet against the backs of his calves, he slipped his hand down to the thick patch of hair between them and was rewarded with a sigh. She pulled his head down for another long, deep kiss as he reached lower on her body and pressed a finger up into her heat. She tightened around him. He'd been inside her head when he'd done that before, so he knew how good the first penetration felt for her. He pushed his finger in farther, and her whimper broke their kiss.

"I reckon I can tonight."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I reckon I can, too. It's been long enough."

And still he couldn't push inside her head, but it didn't stop his hungry mind from trying.

"It's been too long." Her fingers ran down his neck, his chest, his belly, and this time he couldn't control the twitch. He pumped his hand a little for her, curling into her hot wetness. She smelled incredible. He wanted to taste her.

She was a wash of shadows and moonlight as she watched his hand move. Her shallow gasps for breath and the rhythmic clenching around his finger told him what his eyes could not. He ducked his head and captured her nipple between his teeth.

"Shit, Harry!" She panted for a moment. "Why aren't you inside me?"

"I bloody love it when you talk like that," he murmured against her breast.

She tugged at his hips, tried to pull him into place, but he resisted. He wasn't quite ready for the night to be over, and he knew once he was inside her he wouldn't last long.

"Harry…" she whimpered impatiently.

He kissed the smooth, warm underside of her breast and ran his tongue along the crease there. He nibbled her belly, and smiled when she gave a giggle. She was ticklish. How had he not known that?

"Stop playing," she chuckled. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"Concentrate? You have to concentrate?"

"My head is spinning, my body feels like lead, and I'm coming off the bad side of Old Magic. I need to concentrate." She said this with a smile on her voice. "Why aren't you inside me yet?"

His erection tightened even more. "Argh…give me a minute."

"Get up here," she murmured, and then sucked in a breath as he used his other hand to open her wide. "_Shit_." Her thighs quivered.

He blew a kiss across her glistening flesh and she jumped. Her body convulsed, her hips rose off the bed. She grabbed the hair on the top of his head, and dragged him up her body until she could reach his mouth with hers. While she kissed him, she gripped his cock, and pushed him on to his back. It all happened so fast - suddenly she was on top of him, and he was inside her, and they both groaned at the connection.

When she collapsed down on him, he held her for a moment, just enjoying the feel of her stomach breathing against his, and her breasts pressed firmly against his chest. Holding her, naked against him, was more comforting than he ever would've imagined. Again he felt his mind trying to merge with hers. Need surged through him.

"Gin." He rolled them both to the side, and she hit the wall. At least in that position he could thrust. He rocked his hips a couple of tentative strokes until she hummed in pleasure. That was all the encouragement he needed. Harry hiked her leg higher on his hip and began to move inside her. Her breath was hot on his throat. She shivered.

"Cold?" he asked through gritted teeth. It was as close to coherent speech as he could manage. He felt her reach behind him and fold the blankets up over the both of them. She kissed his neck and jaw while he moved inside her. Her nail skimmed over his nipple, and he growled as the pressure in his pelvis began to build.

"I've noticed that before," she whispered, almost to herself. She pinched at his flat nipple again, and his hips responded with an extra firm thrust. "You like that."

"Yeah…"

Her mouth closed over his nipple, and she sucked. Hard.

"_Bloody…_" His rhythm faltered, the sensation was so intense. He needed better purchase.

With a hand firmly on her bum he lifted her enough to pull her underneath him, and then he pushed her legs up to his ribcage so she could locked her ankles behind his back. Knees and toes digging into the mattress, Harry finally had the leverage he craved. He rose up, elbows locked, and watched their bodies meet as he rammed into her. Her breasts moved in a lovely blur. He could make out her smile - in the moonlight her teeth shined.

"I wish I could feel what you're feeling," she said. "I wish you could feel what I'm feeling."

"What are…you feeling?" he asked between thrusts.

She reached up and scraped his nipple again. "You."

He groaned and bucked into her even harder. His legs began to quiver from exertion, and he felt his climax begin to crest. A thousand stars exploded inside him, sending energy and love and joy through every cell in his body. He vibrated with it. He glowed.

She pulled him down on top of her, and tugged the blanket up over them again. When he tried to roll off she held his hips in place. "I'm afraid," she whispered in his ear. "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to go, either, but you don't need to be afraid. I will always come back to you, Ginny. I belong to you."

* * *

He woke in the early morning hours, curled around Ginny with his body hard against her, and his hand on her breast. It was cold in the room when Hermione snuck in. She tapped him on the shoulder, though she didn't need to. He'd heard her footsteps on the creaky landing.

"Percy's back," she whispered. "Esmerelda's mental that it took him so long. There's no time for a shower."

When she slipped out, Harry quickly cast a Cleaning Spell on himself, and dressed while Ginny sat up in the bed, exposed, and watched. It was their last bit of intimacy.

"You'll go back to Hogwarts, then? At the start of term?"

"Won't you be back by then?" She handed him his glasses, and he pushed them on. She looked at him with a pained expression. Her breasts were lovely.

"I love you," he said, and leaned down for one more kiss. She cupped his face as her mouth met his.

"Stay with Ron," she told him. "He won't let anything happen to you." She took his hand and led it to her breast. He squeezed it lightly and ran his thumb over her nipple. She kissed him again.

And then he had to go.


	25. Chapter 24 Home Is Where the Heart Is

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 24 – Home Is Where the Heart Is

The town was called Dragesti, though it could hardly be called a town. The house was called _Azil_, "Asylum" Ez had explained, but she hadn't made the distinction between a place of safe harbor or a mental ward, and the unease Harry felt walking into the rough, dark house and Ez's state had him considering the latter rather than the former. The moment they arrived in Romania by Portkey, she began to tremble.

The tall, slender woman was called Magda. She had black hair, small eyes, red cheeks with high, prominent cheekbones, and a deep, hoarse voice. She cried when she saw Ez, and when they embraced the witch touched Ez's short, tangled hair. They spoke Romanian to each other in a fast clip that stumbled over Ez's stutter and a few English words like England and Death Eater, and Charlie.

The wizard, also tall, but thick as a barrel around the middle, was called Tibor. He touched Ez's hair, and seemed just as happy to see her as his wife was, but disturbed by what he saw. Harry realized, seeing Ez for a moment through their eyes, how very different she looked from the witch who crashed Bill's wedding. Now she was thinner, paler, and her hair was a short mass of uneven dark frizz and waves and tangles. She wore no make-up now, which always made her look fragile, and her hands shook even when she clasped them together. But it was the dark circles under her eyes that aged her, and the struggle she had with her words - and now a simple touch - that spoke volumes about what she'd been through in the past few months. She looked feral.

Harry wondered if she told them she was pregnant. Her robes hid her belly well enough, if she was showing yet at all.

Ez pulled away from Magda when the older woman began wildly gesturing out through the kitchen.

"_Aici?_" Ez asked, breathless. She looked stunned.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"He's…here," she whispered. "C-c-c-can it be? Would he b-b-b-b-b-be s-s-s-s-so…"

Without finishing the thought she hurried toward the back door. Harry followed, as did everyone else.

They were in the craggy, tree-covered mountains in the north of the country, and the wind was piercingly crisp, even through Harry's cloak and robes. The dim, grey light from the overcast day left everything a lifeless monochrome. Out the back of the house was a small, dead garden. A path that led over the side of the mountain. The path turned into step concrete steps that crumbled in places where there were no handrails. Harry took them at a quarter of the speed Ez was able to manage. The valley below was narrow and snow-covered. The trees were skeletal.

After several switchbacks the steps leveled out into a brick-paved walkway that led to a small cottage tucked between two ancient oak trees. Now, covered in snow, from above it would blend in with the ground, but in the spring and summer when the trees were thick with leaves, the cottage would be practically invisible to anyone looking across the valley for it. And still, it was beautiful in a rough, rustic sort of way. Quiet and battered, but lovely for it. It was exactly the sort of place Harry might expect Ez to live.

There were no lights in the small, squat windows, and no smoke came from the chimney. Ez hesitated at the door before she opened it, but only for a moment. By the time Harry and the rest of them caught up, she had already disappeared into the darkness inside. The small house was cold. Hermione lit a few of the lamps when they entered.

Ez stood still and stunned. Charlie was there as promised, passed out across the large bed in the tiny back room. He was still in his flannels with nothing more than a wool blanket thrown over him. The scars on his back and arms were shiny against his goose flesh. Harry stepped back as she turned to lean against the doorjamb. She breathed an enormous sigh, her eyes watered, and she closed them to keep her emotions in check. Harry knew that feeling of relief – he felt a little of it himself.

"He's there, then?" Percy asked, the last to file in. "Well, that was easy."

The main room had a tiny kitchen, a round table with two chairs, and an over-stuffed, well-worn, red couch that faced a barrel-shaped fireplace in one corner. There were keep-sakes cluttering the walls, and books and framed photos and the usual knickknacks that collected in a home over time.

"Good, then," Percy said crisply, and he smoothed the front of his robes, obviously relieved himself. "Collect him. Let's go home."

Ez blinked at him for a moment, and Harry knew just what she was thinking, even without touching her mind. She was home.

"Charlie!" Percy called.

"N-n-n-n-n-n…" Ez began to protest, and then fell silent as Charlie's moan filtered in from the bedroom. The sound of a bed creaking followed, and then another moan. Ez glared at Percy and motioned wildly for him to remain silent.

He shrugged and gave her a what-do-want-from-me look. "What are we waiting for?"

Then Charlie was there, standing in the door, looking sick and just as shocked as Ez had been. The hand he pressed against the jamb to steady himself slipped and he pitched forward into Ez's arms. He didn't move, didn't breathe as she held him, and neither did she.

"I'll just get the Portkey return time moved up, and we'll be going, then," Percy said as if everyone in the room wasn't looking at Charlie and Ez, holding their breaths, waiting for hell to break loose. "We'll be home for tea."

"You're…here?" Charlie muttered, still not believing it. He ripped his gaze from her and surveyed the rest of them. His eyes landed on Percy. "You brought her here? Here? Why would you do that?"

"Her idea, I can assure you," Percy told him crisply. "Ez seems to think you taking on the Wizmere family single-handed might get you killed."

Charlie's face went long, as he considered his brother. "Where did you find her? _How_ did you find her? Take her back to the Burrow," he said, his arms going tighter around her. "She'll be safer at the Burrow."

"I'm r-r-r-right here, Ch-ch-ch-charlie. T-t-t-t-t-t-talk-k t-t-to me."

He exploded, jerked away from her. His face went red, his jaw popped. "What the hell is wrong with you? How could you leave like that? It's Christmas! Christmas! I should've known, though, shouldn't I? I should be used to your last fuck good-bye by now. The getting me pissed, though, that was a new twist. Nice, that. Think I'd sleep until New Years, did you? Where did you go? How could you leave? It's Christmas!"

"There will be time for a row once we're back in England," Percy began, but Charlie roared at him.

"_How dare you bring her here!_"

"It's m-m-m-me you're ang-g-g-g-gry at, you br-r-r-r-rute," Ez snapped, and she gave Charlie a shove. "Leave him-m-m-m-m alone!"

He grabbed her arm and jerked her to him, and they fell into an intense embrace. He cradled her head against his shoulder, and his expression crumbled into grief in the crook of her neck. "You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to run to where it's safe."

"F-f-f-f-f-f-fucking hyp-p-pppocrit!"

He silenced her mouth with his. The kiss was angry, hungry, and when she moaned, Harry had to look away. Ron was suddenly interested in the small, framed photographs near the couch, and he studied them with red ears. Percy crossed his arms and turned stiffly away. Hermione smirked, and raised her brows at Harry. He knew exactly what she was thinking. They'd managed to bring the lovers back together again. Girls were forever thinking about romance.

A wet smack ended the kiss. Charlie pressed his forehead against Ez's. "Percy," he said breathlessly. "Take her back to the Burrow. Let Mum fuss over her."

"N-n-n-no!" Ez pushed herself out of his arms, eyes blazing. "I will n-n-n-n-n-not b-b-b-be-"

Charlie pointed a finger at her. "You will go back to the Burrow, and when term starts you'll return to Hogwarts!"

"I w-w-w-w-w-will n-n-n-n-"

"And," he continued, "you will not disappear again! Do you see what you've risked?" He held out a hand to Ron and Hermione and Harry. "You're part of my family now, whether you like it or not. They can't _not_ help you, Mere. It's who we are."

"Right," Percy said, as if that settled the matter. "No more bolting. Let's go home." He gestured toward the door. No one moved. His gaze fell heavily on his brother, and he lifted his brows in pompous authority. "Charlie? After you."

"I can't," Charlie began, and Ez opened her mouth to protest. He touched her lips. "I can't. Hermione was right. I have to make the world safe for our child, Mere. I can't leave things like they are any longer."

"It's n-n-n-n-n…you can't. N-n-n-n-n-not on your own. Remem-m-m-m-m-m-mber T-t-t-t-t-t-târgu M-m-m-m-m-mureş? St-t-t-t-t-tandau's too well p-p-protected. You c-c-c-c-can't reach him th-th-th-th-"

"I'm not going to Târgu Mureş." Charlie told her. "I'm going to Poenari."

Ez's jaw dropped open. "Oh…fuck-k-k, n-no. Ch-ch-ch…p-p-p-p…d-d-d…"

He tried to give her a confident smile. It fell short. "It'll be all right. I have a plan."

She shook her head, and tears pooled in her eyes. She looked terrified, and she turned to Percy for help. "P-p-p-p-poenari…"

"Mere," Charlie cooed, and he smoothed the hair back from her temple. "Take Ron back to my mum. They shouldn't be here. None of you should be here."

She shook her head, no longer listening. Tears spilled over her lashes. "Ch-ch-ch-ch…_ vă rog-g-g-g_…"

"I love you," he whispered.

"Marry me." Those two words were clear as crystal.

Charlie's face darkened. "What? I'm not trying to-"

"B-b-b-b-b-bond with m-m-m-m…"

"It won't change what I have to do," Charlie told her. "Stop, Mere. Get out of my head. That's not fair…bloody…bloody hell." He closed his eyes, and Harry knew he was bracing himself against her mental onslaught. He recognized the expression of pleasure and grief. "Of course I'll Bond with you. After-"

"Here." She glanced at the bedroom. "N-n-n-now."

"After I stop Lazarius."

She shook her head, took his hands, pulled him close. "B-bond w-w-with m-m-m-m-"

"Mere," he whispered, and his eyes closed and so did hers. They weren't touching now, but Harry got the distinct feeling that neither of them knew it. "Go back to the Burrow. Please." He closed his eyes again and swallowed hard. "No…no…you can't kiss me like that…bloody…I can't fight you…this…I'm not strong enough."

She lunged at him, crushed her mouth against his. Her fingers ran through his hair. He held her, and drew her even closer. Charlie whimpered, he broke the kiss.

"You would risk our baby? Mere? Would you risk losing another one?"

"I'd d-d-d-d-do anything f-f-for you," she breathed. She slipped out of his arms, and clasped his hand. She began to draw him into the other room. "B-b-bond with me. M-m-marry m-m-me. I l-l-l-l-love you. N-n-n-n-n-no P-poenari."

"I'm still going," he muttered. "Even if we do this, Mere, I'm going to go. To Poenari. I mean it." He was still protesting when the door slammed shut behind them. There was a thud, as if bodies were thrown against the door, and then a male moan as Charlie surrendered to pleasure. Blue magic shimmered. _Impervius_.

* * *

_"Ah…Nagini, my pet. Come closer…"_

_"Master, please." Pleading, groveling, sniveling. "Forgive…"_

_"I do not forgive, Wormtail. And I do not forget. Nagini, show this pathetic coward what happens when I am failed."_

_"Wait! Master, please! I can find the locket. I can! Regulus Black had it, I'm certain. There was no one else! If it's not in the Black Mansion-"_

_"You know that it's not, Wormtail. You have been inside that place yourself."_

_"Yes, Master. I searched it quite thoroughly. As I did __Targa Merez."_

_"Targa Merez. You said it would be there, and I said that Lazarius would not betray me. I was correct."_

_"As you always are, Master. But there is a third possible hiding place – and not far. Not far at all! __Peonari-"_

Harry pushed him out of his head. The effort was like trying to knock a hippogriff over, but Harry managed it. Voldemort was gone from his mind, and in his place was a splitting headache.

"No, bring him here!" Hermione's frantic voice. "Put him on the couch, Ron! Where are you going?"

"Couch. Right."

There were hands on him, lifting him, pulling him in two directions. Nausea rolled through Harry's stomach, and he tried to push one of the arms away before he retched, but he wasn't certain he was at all successful.

"Bloody hell!"

Harry's head swam even after he was dumped on to a leather cushion. He tried to breathe through it. "I'm going to be sick."

"Again?"

"_Accio_ rubbish bin!" Again, Hermione's confident voice. Harry found it comforting. "Here." He lifted his hand to the lip of the bin and vomited.

"Voldemort, was it?" Ron asked. He sounded close - he was probably kneeling, but Harry couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to look. His head would explode, he would burst into flames, he was so hot. "Water?"

"Is he going to be all right?" Percy's voice. He sounded annoyed.

"Dunno," Ron said.

"I…pushed him out. By myself." Harry wanted to explain what a feat that was, but the words were beyond him.

"Here, Harry. Drink slowly." A glass was brought to his lips, and her cool hand held his face steady as she helped him sip.

A blinding, white-hot pain sliced his head in half. Harry was falling.

_Ah…so it is you. Listening in on my conversations, were you, Potter? Miss me that much, did you?_

The laughter was terrible; it shook him to the core. Harry tried and tried to form a Fist, but he couldn't seem to find all five fingers.

_Tell me where you are, Potter, and I'll come for you myself. What? No reply? I know you're there, I can feel your terror. You're weak, Harry. And I am strong._

He managed the Fist, but it didn't make contact. Harry sung high and low, and finally found Voldemort right in front of him. Slanted red eyes burned into his brain.

_And what have we…ah, Ginny Weasley. My, my. She's turned into such a pretty little…do bring her along, won't you?_

_Get out of my head!_

The Fist was pathetically ineffectual the second time around. Harry had no strength at all.

_I know what you're looking for, Harry, but you won't find them. I have two. Re-collected, if you will. It was careless of me to leave them lying about. I will not make that same mistake again. Now…what have we here?_

Harry felt a memory lift, open, unveil.

_So, then, the Red lives. Wormtail will know my displeasure. _And even as he thought that, Harry could feel his excitement grow – or was that Voldemort's excitement? It was a perverse, black thrill that felt vaguely sexual. _What shall I cut off this time?_

_Get out of my head!_

_You're weak, Harry. Do you really think you can best me? Because you know, in the end, you won't have your little friends to help you. In the end it will be you and me. And you haven't got a chance._

_He said, 'GET OUT OF HIS HEAD!'_

Suddenly Ez was there, and Voldemort was gone, and Harry was on the floor trying to retch but there was nothing left in his aching stomach. His belly cramped, nausea made him shake. The pain in his head was blinding. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, until cool hands lifted his head.

"Harry, look at me." Ron's voice. Harry obeyed and saw his best mate studying him. "No, they're his eyes. Green like always."

"Is there any Firewhiskey?" Ez asked. She was hunched over in the leather arm chair.

"In the cupboard. There should be, yeah." Charlie left Ez's side and limped over to the small kitchen area, and began rummaging.

"He was attacked twice," Hermione quickly reported. "Back to back. It's never been like that before. Has it Harry? I don't think it has."

"Twice? You did it, then. Good for you." Ez gave him a small smile. She was exhausted, too.

"Only the first time," Harry said. His mouth tasted foul.

"Yeah, well, he's one powerful son of a bitch. Drink the Firewhiskey, Harry. If he comes back again I won't be able to help for a while, either."

Charlie handed Harry a glass, and Harry choked the contents down. A Cleaning Spell was cast - he could feel the tell-tale tingles. His body began to relax, his headache backed off after the second drink, and Harry was able to sit up and crawl on to the couch with minimal help from Ron.

It was then that he realized that Ez was wrapped in a blanket, and Charlie had his jeans on, but not buttoned up. They'd come to his aid in a hurry. "Sorry I interrupted," Harry told them. "Everything…you know, all right?"

Ez smirked. Charlie went red. Percy looked uncomfortable. "Need a bit of air," he said gruffly, and stalked out of the cottage. Ez watched after him for a moment, and then went back into the bedroom. Charlie followed, and closed the door.

Ron leaned close to Harry. "So…did you see anything?" Hermione knelt down on Harry's other side to fuss with the blanket she laid over him.

"Loads. And I think I might know where the locket is," Harry told them. "Wormtail said it was in the same place that Charlie was threatening to go. The place that made Ez go mental enough to Bond with him. They did Bond, didn't they? I didn't interrupt too soon, did I?"

"I interrupted," Hermione said, smugly. "And no. I think they…you know. At least, that's what it looked like."

Ron made a face. "Lovely. Couldn't have been attacked by the darkest wizard ever a little sooner, could you?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to make a face.

"Seriously, though," Ron said, turning his attention back to Harry. "You know where the locket is? The RAB locket?"

"Maybe. I know where Wormtail thinks it is."

"We're going in, then?" asked Ron, but he needn't have. They all knew if there was a chance a Horcrux was nearby, they'd go after it.

"But there's something else. Wormtail's been in Headquarters."

"In Headquarters? Harry, but that's not possible. It's unchartable. He couldn't possibly-"

"He's been there looking for the locket," Harry assured.

"First St. Mungo's, then Hogsmeade, and now Headquarters. Did they say anything about Hogwarts?" Ron asked. "Is Hogwarts still safe?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head, and woke the dizziness again. "I need to kip here for a bit." He drained the rest of his glass, and then poured another just to be safe. Then, they left him to rest.

* * *

"Spot of tea?"

"Mmm. Thanks, mate."

The voices woke Harry up, though it took a moment for him to realize that he was awake and not dreaming. His body was still heavy from the Firewhiskey, and his mind still muddled. Was it muddled enough? He eyed the glass on the table above his feet. From his position on the couch he'd have to sit up to get it. Too much effort, he decided. He didn't need it.

"Milk?"

"Yeah. Cheers."

Charlie and Percy. They were in the small kitchen. Ron and Hermione were on the floor below Harry, curled together under a blanket. They snored in time with each other.

"So…congratulations, then. I suppose there will be another wedding at the Burrow." Percy didn't sound pleased.

"If I can drag her down the aisle, yeah. If not…well, at least we're Bonded. She's my wīf and I'm her hsbnda. Ancient Magic still constitutes a legal marriage."

"That's archaic rubbish. There aren't even any modern English words for it. Mum will want to see you _properly _married."

"Yeah, well, Mum can't always have what she wants. She's going to get a grandchild out of it. That should be enough."

There was a snort. "Are you coming back to England, then?"

"Not…right away. No."

"Even now that you're Bonded? You'd risk her? And your baby? For what? Revenge?"

"They're already at risk."

"Not like they would be running into the heat of battle."

"She'll stay out of it-"

"Ha! We're talking about Esmerelda Wizmere, here! You know she can't stay out of anything."

"Keep it down."

"Charlie, you need to come back to England. Bring Ez and Ron and the rest back, and lie low, at least for a while. You know she won't go back without you. It's the smart thing to do. It's the responsible thing to do."

"I know you have trouble believing it, Percy, but you're not the only person who can dictate what constitutes responsible."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because I don't have a boring office job, or I don't own my own house in the south of France doesn't mean I'm not responsible. Everything I do, I do for someone else. I'm the Order's bloody Secret Keeper, for Merlin's sake! Dumbledore thought me-"

"Right. Your precious Order. And where are they now?" There was resentment in Percy's tone. "And…and I never said you were irresponsible-"

"You said it all the time-"

"That was years ago! And you were! You and Bill never took responsibility for anything! And you got away with it!"

"Oh, bloody – not the ghoul again! I was nine!"

"Yes, you were nine then and now you're – what? Twenty-five?"

"I've just had a birthday, thanks. I'm twenty-six now."

"And still chasing danger."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Charlie grumbled.

"Don't I? You want to storm some fortress to hunt down Ez's grandfather. Yeah, I know about Peonari, and I know about Lazarius-"

"Of course you do. You research all your lovers, don't you? You always did invent homework when you didn't feel you were challenged enough." The growl in Charlie's voice was so threatening that Harry felt a chill go through him. Where was his wand? Harry found it by the rolled up shirt he was using as a pillow.

"Don't say it like that," Percy quietly, self-consciously complained. "It wasn't like that."

"No?" Charlie didn't sound as if he believed him. "You didn't fuck my wīf?"

"Your vulgarity doesn't shock me."

"And neither does your self-righteous pompousness."

"You mistake pompousness for concern."

Charlie guffawed. "You don't think yourself superior to everyone in every way?"

"Hardly," Percy snapped. "You have always thought the worst of me."

"Yeah, I do. Come to think of it, why are you here?"

"To stop you from doing something completely irresponsible you arrogant bugger! Ez was terrified-"

"Well, she's good now," Charlie preened. "So, toddle off."

"You don't get it, do you? It's amazing how thick you can be. She was desperate to find you, Charlie. Beyond desperate. She collapsed. And you and I both know that Ez is not some wilting flower. She does not just collapse. But now she's a bloody mess, isn't she? She's not sleeping, not eating – and she should be gaining weight, shouldn't she? And that stutter-"

"I'm familiar with her current state, thanks," Charlie flatly said.

"And now you're going to go off and kill her family? And force her to go with you? To kill them with you? Now that you're Bonded, it's not as if you can leave her behind, is it?"

Charlie snorted. "In all of your extensive research into the family Wizmere, did you happen to read up on one of her illustrious 15th century ancestors called Vlad Drăculea? Drăculea…it means his father was part of the Order of the Dragon – the Drăculeşti – so Vlad became a Drăculea, a son of the Dragon. But unlike his knightly father who followed St. George – England's patron saint, by the way - Vlad was a twisted bloke. He liked to impale his enemies up on big pointy sticks and leave them out in the sun to bake. The vampire stuff came later."

There was the soothing sound of liquid pouring, and a tinkle of spoon on cup.

"Vlad Drăculea – they call him Vlad Ţepeş here, it means Vlad the Impaler – he was a madman. Even today the Romanian word Dracul, which used to mean dragon, means devil. But not a figurative, intangible devil. Dracul means the physical manifestation of the devil on earth. He was a real, bloody bloke, and he dripped pure evil. It's been six hundred years and people here – Muggle and magical alike - are still afraid of him. And Mere's cousin, Standau, he takes after his ancestor like a shadow."

"So, he's a bad wizard. He's not the only one in the world," Percy insisted. "You're not going after the rest of them!"

"Because they're not capturing and raping and torturing my wīf! Yeah, Ez stutters! Yes, she's a bloody mess! It's amazing that she's been functioning at all, after what that bastard did to her! I won't let him hurt her again! I have to take care of this. I should've done long ago."

"So, protect her, then. Take her back to England and hide her away. Or Canada. Or wherever. Just get her away. Don't force her into a fight neither one of you can win. She can't take this, Charlie. You know she can't."

Charlie snorted. "We're still talking about Esmerelda Wizmere, here, yeah? You know her. I couldn't hider her away any more than I could…" There was a pause where Harry imagined Percy gave his brother an odd look, because Charlie then asked, "How long were you with her?"

Another pause. "Nine months. Give or take."

Then, there was an odd sound, like the air being let slowly out of a balloon as this new bit of information was processed. "So, you do know, then." Charlie cleared his throat, swallowed loudly. "Bloody hell."

"Look, Charlie-"

"I can't leave, Percy. I can't. We're blood traitors, you and I, and we wear that like a badge of honor because we can. In England, Blood purists wouldn't dare touch us, at least not in public, but here…things are different. Her family is in control, and they take Blood very seriously. Muggle borns aren't taught in Romania, not because they're banned from school, but because they don't make it to their eleventh birthdays. Mixed bloods almost never happen because people are terrified to even associate with Muggles. And Mere is carrying a child fathered by a Blood Traitor, and will be born to a Blood Traitor. He will be, in the Wizmeres' eyes, the equivalent of a Muggle born, only worse, because genetically he's one of their own. They will hunt him down no matter where I hide him, just like they'll hunt Mere, and me. And, just like Hermione said, I will connect them to Mum and Dad, and then to Ron and Ginny and Fred and George, and Bill and his family, and to you and Penny. They will come, Percy. And none of us will be safe. I've brought this on our family, and I accept the responsibility. I will end the threat here, one way or the other."

"But…but you Bonded with her!" Percy cried, taken aback. "If you really mean to…how could you? How could you Bond with her knowing what you're going to do? If you die, Charlie-"

"I know."

"It's madness! Are you that certain you will succeed?"

There was the sound of sipping, and the tap of a cup placed on a wood table. "No…no, I'm that certain that I won't."


	26. Chapter 25 Deconstructing Percy

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 25 – Deconstructing Percy

Harry dreamed of Ginny laughing. When he woke, he was rock-hard, thirsty, and aching, but he wore a huge smile on his face. It faded all too quickly as he registered where he was, and why; Horcruxes, Charlie and Ez, and Ginny so very far away. He wanted to talk to her about the things he'd seen in Voldemort's head, and tell her that he'd managed to push him out on his own. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to be touched.

"So…then, what do you want to do?" Ron's voice, and he seemed irritated. He and Hermione were sitting at the table, and now it was Percy who was curled up in a tight ball near the guttering fireplace.

Harry blinked and found his glasses on the table by the couch.

"It's not about _want_. I'm…" Hermione's voice was equally irritated, but less petulant. "We've always known that Voldemort was after Harry, and I've always been afraid for him, but this is different. These wizards – we don't even know them, and they hate us. They could come after your family…and my parents are Muggles - Ron, they'd have no defense at all! We're going to be away for a long while looking for the Horcruxes. What if something happens to my parents while we're gone? What if Lazar Wizmere tries to hurt Ez by hurting Charlie and his family – _your family_? What if he hurts you or me or my parents? What will happen to Harry if the Wizmeres go after Ginny?"

"Easy," Ron cautioned. "There are a lot of ifs in that. We don't even know if Charlie is right about any of this. He's a bit mental over Ez, after all. He's not exactly inspiring confidence, now is he? Think she's infected him some how? Can mental-ness be catching?"

"Don't joke. Charlie wants to protect his family."

"Charlie's going to get himself killed – and his family with him. Reckon she'll be able to talk him into going home now that she's in his head again?"

"Maybe," Hermione allowed. "But you know your brother. You tell me if you think Ez can talk him into going back to England."

Ron's face darkened. "Hermione, I don't like this. Not one bit."

Harry sat up. "I'm not thrilled with it either," he said in a hoarse croak, as he bunched his blanket in his lap. "If Charlie's going to do this - and I think he is - he's going to need help. I'm not saying us, but he's definitely going to need help. More than Ez can provide. Especially now."

"If not us, then who? The Order? Harry, you know he can't ask them to do that. The Order was devised to fight Voldemort. This is personal."

"Voldemort is a bit personal to me," Harry told her. "But I think you're right. This isn't something the Order can afford to get caught up in."

"Then who?"

Hermione nodded. "I think that's his point, Ron. Charlie's going to need help. More than Ez can give him, and there is no one else. It's got to be us."

"There's dad." Percy slowly pushed himself up to sitting, and rubbed his long, lean face. He righted his glasses. "And Bill. And I'm sure Tonks-"

"No." Ez stood in the doorway dressed in red and black robes so wrinkled they looked as if they'd been pulled out of storage. How long had she been standing there? How much had she heard? "All of you are going back to England." She quietly shut the door behind her, and made a bee-line for the table where she poured herself a generous mug of coffee.

"All of you?" Hermione asked. "Not all of us?"

Ez gulped down a few swallows, and then went to the couch beside Harry. She looked exhausted. "Yes, Hermione. All of you. Charlie won't be dissuaded, and I won't let him go alone. Well, I can't now, but I wouldn't, even if I could. The rest of you, though, aren't involved. It's best that you stay out of it. You're going home."

"I'm not sure that's entirely true," Harry told her. "We are involved – or, at least I am. Remember yesterday when you pushed Voldemort out of my head? Remember the light? It was the same as the light here. In Romania."

Ez froze. "Fuck. I didn't notice that. I should have noticed that."

"There's more," Harry said, and then he related everything he'd heard of Voldemort's conversation with Wormtail about the Horcruxes, and every last detail he could remember…except for Voldemort's mention of Ginny. That was private.

"So, he's recovered two Horcruxes?" Hermione practically wailed. "But then…what will we do?"

"He keeps them with him, doesn't he?" Ron put in. "When we go for him, they should be near by, then. Easier for us, if you ask me. Less hunting."

"Horcruxes? What the blazes are Horcruxes?" Percy asked. "And what do you mean when _you_ go after him? Ron, you're not seriously considering going after You-Know-Who, are you?"

"Of course, I am!" Ron insisted. "You don't think we'd let Harry go off on his own, do you?"

"But that's…madness!" Percy shook his head, incredulous. "You're just as bad as that one," he said, jabbing a thumb towards the closed bedroom door. "You're all mental, the lot of you. Just like Dad."

"Dad's not mental, you bleeding waster!" Ron defended, and slammed a fist down on the table hard enough to make Hermione jump. "He's courageous! _He_ wasn't afraid to contradict the Minister! He didn't tout the party line about Voldemort! He knew Voldemort was back, and he said so! He had the courage to stand up for what he knew to be true!"

"Yes? Well, it takes courage to stand up to one's family, as well."

"Rubbish!"

"Think me cowardly all you like, but don't forget, baby brother, that I'm a Gryffindor, same as you."

Ron scowled. "I'm nothing like you." He jerked his coffee up, and it sloshed over on to his hand. "Bugger it!"

Harry considered Percy, across the room and sitting cross-legged on the floor. He had been a Gryffindor, and Harry had never known the Sorting Hat to make a mistake. Certainly Percy would've done well in Ravenclaw - he earned the marks to back up his intelligence. And he would've made an excellent Slytherin – Percy was nothing if not ambitious. But the Hat had made him a Gryffindor, which meant that above all his other attributes, Percy was courageous. Harry narrowed his eyes at him. He was more courageous than ambitious? More courageous than clever? Well, he certainly wasn't more courageous than pompous, but that didn't really count. It wasn't as if there was a Hogwarts House whose attribute was pompousness, or Percy would've been its mascot.

"Something you may not have considered," Percy quietly added, "is that I _believed_ in the Minister because he was the first person who ever believed in me! He saw my intelligence as an asset, and he trusted me for it. And I defended him because I thought he was right. Loads of us thought he was right! A wizard coming back from the dead? Who'd ever heard of such rubbish? Of course I thought the Minister was right! Any sane wizard would. But, Dad didn't care about any of that. He resents that I've done well in the Ministry when he's struggled all his life for his pathetic, little cubicle. He can't understand why I want more, why I actually want to make a difference. He wants me to be exactly like him. He wants me to be like Bill. Like Charlie!" He threw up his arms. "And looks where Charlie's gotten the rest of us!"

"Enough," Ez said. She didn't raise her voice, but there was an edge of finality in that single word to remind Percy just who was in the room.

He didn't stay chastened for long. "How can you love him? How? After everything he's done to-"

"You can't ask me that," she said, and sipped her coffee.

"It's a valid question, I think. I mean, I was there, wasn't I? After the last time? I know what he did. I know what happened. He didn't deserve you. I was a much better boyfriend - I always treated you with kindness and respect. I knew your worth."

"Percy, stop it. Leave it alone."

"No. I won't. Charlie's not good enough for you."

"Charlie is the best fucking wizard in the world."

"You could do so much better."

She slammed her coffee down on the small table by the couch. It dripped over the side on to the wood floor.

"If you're suggesting that you're better, I will remind you that you're married."

"And happily," Percy muttered. "She's never once thought of my brother while we make love."

Ez covered her eyes, but not before she threw a self-conscious glance at Harry. "I told you I was sorry about that. Do we have to do this here?"

"You said you were through with him," Percy said, quieter, reigning in his frustration. "That you were going to get on with your life. Building something new. That's why you went back to Canada, isn't it? You wanted to find your own way and fight the good fight. And now…Merlin's beard, Ez, you're going to have his baby! You swore you'd never, never go back, and here we are – _and you're Bonded to him again_! And now we're here with you, planning the murder of your family! Doesn't that seem in the least bit mental to you?"

"_Enough!_" This time she did yell. There was a fire in her eyes Harry hadn't seen for a long time. "Just shut the hell up! We're not going for my family, we're going for the fucking Horcrux! He just doesn't know it yet!"

"I know you don't want to hear this, but you've got to see reason. This is madness. Ez, I know you love him – I don't understand it, but I know you do – but this can't be what you want."

"No, it's not," she said quietly. "None of this is. And still…" A faint smile turned up the corners of her pale lips. She had nicely shaped lips when they weren't all painted up. Not ripe and kissable like Ginny's, but nice lips all the same.

Percy asked an exasperated, "What?"

"Mm…nothing, eh? Charlie's dreaming. I've missed that."

"Are you happy, then? Even though it's not what you wanted?" Harry asked before he realized it was probably too personal a question for the present company. It was just that her face was so changed when she looked inward at Charlie's dream, and she seemed somehow softer.

Ez didn't say anything, but smoothed her robes over the top of her thigh. She swallowed. She was terrified, Harry could plainly see, but she was happy, too. Love was like that.

"It's just…you're not stuttering anymore," Harry said.

"Yeah," she said. "I noticed that, too."

"It's better, then? Inside?" Harry touched his temple.

"Harry, you need to go back to England. Don't get involved in any of this. Don't let them get involved."

Harry turned and looked over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione. They were exchanging a glance that said something, but Harry wasn't sure just what until Ron nodded, and then gave Harry a resigned shrug.

"It's too late for that," Harry told Ez. "We're already here, and there's a Horcrux nearby."

Ez didn't fight him further, though he could see that she wanted to. Instead, she picked up her coffee and sipped again.

"So, then," Percy said with a heavy sigh. "I suppose someone should explain this Horcrux business."

* * *

Ron was amazing. He'd always been fairly good with a wand, but Harry had never seen him duel with so much confidence – or power. He moved like a ninja, blocking Charlie's strikes just as fast as they were cast. It was freezing out in the snow-covered garden, and the wind whipped through Harry and his heavy robes, but Ron was flush with exertion and the ginger hair around his face was dark with sweat. He ducked again, dropping down on to his belly in the snow before pulling his feet back under him, kicking up a shower of crystals, and pouncing up.

"Fire!" Ez ordered. "Ron! He gave you an opening! Hex him!"

On Harry's other side, Hermione looked anxious. This lesson wasn't like anything they'd learned at Hogwarts, or any place else. Charlie and Ron were casting spells meant to really maim, which was potentially dangerous with Madam Pomfrey and St. Mungo's so far away.

Charlie didn't give Ron another chance to cast against him. With a fierce, terrifying look he began a volley of Pummel Hexes that forced Ron to cast a Shield Spell. It held around him like a great blue egg, but as Charlie continued to slam spell after spell at the Shield, Ron dropped to his knees. His face was twisted in frustration and exhaustion, and on it Harry read the exact second his magic failed him.

So did Hermione. She jumped toward him, and cast her own Shield Spell around the two of them together, and then bent down beside him to be certain he was all right. She spoke to him, but behind the netting of gold magic Harry couldn't hear what was said. Ron nodded.

Charlie stopped, winded in his own right, and hunched over to catch his breath. His sweat-stained shirt, despite the cold air, was evidence that Ron had given him quite a work out. He winced as he took a few steps toward Ez, and Harry realized Charlie had been hobbling about without a walking stick since they'd left the Burrow.

"She did a bleeding Double Shield!" he said between gasps. "How'd she managed that? I can't Double Shield. Can you Double Shield?"

Ez cast a spell at his thigh, and it sparkled with blue magic for a couple of seconds outlining the thick scar through his trousers. He groaned in relief. "I don't know anyone who can," she told him. "I've never seen one before. Come sit down."

"Where'd she learn it?"

"Why are you asking me?" Ez griped with a smirk. "Sit down, baby, before you fall down." He gave a loose nod and dropped down on his hip next to her. "How's the leg?"

"On fire."

"I'll rub it for you."

Hermione's Shield wavered, and then popped like a soap bubble.

"Oi, Hermione! That was fantastic! How long can you hold a Double Shield?" Charlie called over to her as Ez settled his leg across hers, and she began to work her thumbs over the ridge of scar tissue so thick it was visible even through his trousers – a physical reminder of just how close he'd come to dying.

Hermione pulled her robes tighter around her. "Not long, apparently." Only Hermione would find a Double Shield for a handful of seconds less than satisfactory, regardless of the fact that it was a tremendous bit of magic, and neither Ez nor Charlie could do it. Harry wondered if he could.

"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron insisted, despite her dissatisfaction. "You saved my arse."

His smile was warm and private, and Harry felt a blush warm his cheeks. He didn't want to be witness to their personal moments like this. Or, like the one Charlie and Ez were apparently sharing without even looking at each other. Were they snogging in their heads? Kissing? Exchanging a private joke? Harry hated feeling the odd man out. Percy, lost in a book on the garden bench, didn't catch any of it.

"Hermione?" Ez said, and the concern in her voice made Harry look up just in time to see his friend stumble. Ron reached out and caught her with one arm, helped her down to her knees, and held her until she could manage on her own.

Harry jumped up, but Ez stopped him with a hand to his arm. "She's all right. Just over extended. Give her a moment. A Double Shield is very advanced magic. You know, I wonder if Santiago could do one."

"I wonder if Dumbledore could," Charlie echoed, almost wistfully as the two of them watched Ron and Hermione interact. "Look at him fuss. Poor, besotted bugger."

"He likes to fuss," Ez smirked. "Must run in the family."

"Oh, come now, I never look like that. All red and doe-eyed."

"With the tops of your ears going red," Ez said, laughing lightly.

"Let's have tea," Charlie suggested with a smile. "She should eat. It'll help with the wobbles."

When they filed into the cottage Charlie limped more than usual, and Hermione leaned against Ron looking a little pale, but well enough, Harry decided.

While the cups were filled and sandwiches made, Percy laid several books out on the table. "We need to talk," he said flatly to his brother.

Charlie ignored his tone, and smeared a healthy pat of butter over a thick slice of bread. "I knew you'd over react."

"Vampires, Charlie. They're Vampires."

Ron dropped his knife. "Who's a Vampire?" He looked suspiciously at Ez.

"My family are not Vampires." Ez pulled out some left over cheese from breakfast, and cold roasted potatoes from the night before and placed them on the table. "I'm almost out of money." She threw a glance at Charlie that said she was more concerned about that than Percy's newfound information.

"I have a few _luni_," Charlie discreetly said before he took a massive bite of bread.

"They can't afford to keep feeding us," Ez began.

"I said I have some money."

"There are six of us, Charlie, and we eat like we're nine." She eyed the hunk of bread and cheese Ron served himself. "Or ten."

Charlie looked down at his own serving, and then considered the small sliver on Ez's plate. He switched his with hers. "Don't argue. Let me fuss. And don't worry. I have some money, and I'll talk to Tibor."

"Some money won't last, and Tibor can't take care of us. Charlie, they're barely getting by now. Can you go back to the Dragon Reserve?"

"No."

"But-"

"I said no," Charlie said firmly. They fell silent, but it was clear from the way Ez stabbed at her potato that they were silently rowing.

"I have money," Harry offered. "If there's a Gringotts equivalent here-"

"You can't touch your account," Charlie told him. "They can't know you're here. At least not yet."

"What about me?" Percy said. "Surely-"

"No," Charlie cut him off. "Anything other than coin can be traced."

"We came by Portkey," Percy reminded him. "Surely they would've traced that."

"Whose name was the Portkey under?" Charlie asked.

"Well, mine," Percy said. "I had to sign for it."

"Then they know a Weasley is here. Hopefully they'll think it was me." Charlie tore off a piece of bread and chewed slowly. Ez looked at him, as if she was saying something, and he gave a slight shake of his head.

Ron and Hermione were doing much the same, only their lips were moving in their whispered debate. When they finally gave each other a little nod, Ron got up and went to his pack by the couch. From the bottom he pulled out a roll of socks.

"We've saved this," he said, and poured a heaping handful of gold coins on the table.

Harry's eyes went wide. "Saved?"

"We knew we'd need something," Hermione explained. "So, every time my parents gave me money for gifts or whatnot, every time Ron's mum gave him some pocket change, we saved it."

"We didn't give each other Christmas gifts," Ron said glumly.

"How long?" Harry asked.

"Since last summer when you started all that I'm-meant-to-be-alone nonsense. Hermione and I knew if you tried to ditch us we'd need a way to catch up with you again."

Harry was stunned. There was a significant amount of money on the table. Enough to buy food and lodgings for the three of them on a Horcrux hunt, if they were careful with it, for a month.

"Ron sold his autograph of Viktor," Hermione whispered to Harry. Ron's cheeks went pink, and he rolled his eyes. "Most of this is Ron's."

"It's ours," he corrected. And then he pushed it toward Charlie, who shook his head.

"You were saving this for something."

"Ah, Harry's not going to ditch us now."

"Ho-ho! I'm not?" Harry playfully asked. "Sure of that, are you?"

Ron smirked. "I'd put a fist full of galleons down on it."

"I'll pay you back," Ez told Ron, her eyes lingering on the coins. "I don't know how, but I will."

"_We_ will," Charlie corrected.

Ron shrugged. "We have to eat, too, you know. And besides, we're family." But his eyes belied his bravado as he watched Charlie sweep the pile of coins together.

Harry didn't know if it was the most gold Ron had ever seen in his life, but it was certainly the most gold he'd ever had in his possession. As Charlie tucked the money away, Ron was once again broke, and it showed on his face.

"Vampires, Charlie." Percy leaned forward, elbows on the edge of the table. "What the bloody hell are we going to do about them?"

"There's nothing to be done. The Wizmeres have long retained Vampire…associates, I reckon you'd call them. It's not likely there will be too many of them around at any one time. They are, as a race, a solitary, private people."

"_As a race?_ But…" Percy was stunned by his brother's nonchalance. "You're mad! Vampires are…superior strength, mind control – Charlie, they can _fly_!"

"Oh, please," Ez admonished. "They're strong, I grant you. And fast. But they go down with a good Severing Spell just like anyone else. And it's not like _meu_ _bunic_ – my grandfather would use them as body guards. Vampires don't serve. They won't be the problem."

"What will be the problem?" Hermione asked. Ron speared a potato from her plate.

Ez and Charlie exchanged a glance.

"What?" Percy snapped. "What is it? Talk out loud! I bloody hate it when you do that."

"Well, the castle is enormous," Charlie said. "And it's built like a maze. We've gotten lost in it before."

"And, we don't know where the Horcrux is," Ez added. "Or even if it's really there. If it is, it will take time to locate–"

"And the more time we spend there, the more likely we'll be discovered. We need to get in and out–" Charlie continued

"And avoid fights – my family knows how to fight."

Charlie nodded. "They also know the castle better than we do–"

"Secret passages–" Ez said.

"Magical doors."

"It's going to be difficult. But after what we just saw – you're ready."

"Yeah. You're ready," Charlie echoed. And then he noticed Hermione's expression. "What?"

"Fred and George do that all the time," Hermione said. "Wonder if they share minds, too."

"They share one mind," Ron quipped.

Charlie smirked. "Oi, Ron, was that the Robertson Twist you did out there - just before you threw up that Shield?"

"Er…yeah."

"Amazing. Where did you learn that?"

"Er, well…"

Viktor Krum had used the dueling move at the last Quidditch World Cup to catch the Snitch, and caused a sensation. For a week during sixth year Ron had practiced the Robertson Twist morning and night. It was during the time Ron was avoiding Lavender and before he'd made up with Hermione, and he'd looked for reasons to be out of the common room. Harry remembered that as a dark time for all of them, but apparently it was productive as well.

"The Robertson was great," Ez said, "but your Shield Spell was about as good as Charlie's, so don't let them force you to Shield. You're far better on offense. And, while Hermione's good at offense, her Defensive Spells are particularly powerful – especially that Double Shield. Remember that."

"What good is it if I can't walk afterwards?" she complained.

"You just need more practice," Charlie assured. "To build up your stamina."

"And food," Ron pressed. He nudged her arm and nodded to her plate. "It's good. Eat. For me?"

"Vampires, Charlie," Percy pressed.

"Wear garlic."

* * *

It had been a long day, and Harry sat with a cup of tea, and a blanket over his legs, staring out the small curtained windows at the falling snow. It was deep and cold, and the wind howled in short gusts as if outraged that winter hit the valley so hard. Beside him on the couch was Hermione, who'd finally succumbed to sleep against Ron's shoulder on her other side. Ron had an arm around her, and a blanket covered them both.

Sounds drifted in from the bedroom - breaths and movement, both rhythmic and heavy. It was the second time that night they'd gone at it, and while Harry knew they meant to keep things quiet, the cottage was small. Harry's lap responded despite his attempts to focus on Horcruxes and everything he'd learned about vampires in Defense classes. And what made it even more frustrating was that there was nothing he could do about it with Ron and Hermione so close, and Percy muttering his own frustrations under his breath.

"I'm going for a bloody walk," Percy finally announced in hushed tones. He grabbed his hat and cloak and stalked out into the blizzard.

Harry didn't much blame him. He tried to ignore Ron's subtle shifting, but Harry couldn't help but imagine that his friend was touching his other friend under the blanket, and a whole series of explicit images that Harry didn't want to think about flooded his brain.

"I'm going out, too. You have ten minutes." Harry didn't have a hat, so he pulled on his cloak and grabbed Ron's. He tied it under his chin as the cold air blasted him in the face. His nose hairs froze as he inhaled, his cheeks went stiff with cold. The filtered light from the small windows was minimal, and thanks to the storm, the meager halo they offered limited visibility to just a few feet inside the garden. Snow stuck to Harry's glasses, making a mosaic out of the darkness. So, hunched against the wind, he trudged through the shin-deep snow toward the only glow that permeated that inky darkness. Percy was warming the stone bench. Once all the snow and ice dripped away, the two of them sat.

They didn't talk right away. Harry hadn't really known Percy while they were at Hogwarts together. Then, of course, there was the falling out Percy had with his family, and Harry had come down hard on Mr. Weasley's side. Truth be told, he was still firmly ensconced in that camp, though it was more complicated now, like everything else in Harry's life. Percy wasn't just the black sheep that the twins railed against and joked about. He wasn't just the prat that made Mrs. Weasley cry. He was a prat with layers.

In some ways Percy reminded Harry of Hermione, and what Hermione might've been had she not had the purpose that he and Ron had given her. She was ambitious, and clever, and she loved her rules more than anyone Harry knew…outside of Percy. But she also loved her friends, and would do anything – even break her precious rules – to protect them. Just like Percy, Hermione would've done well in any of the Hogwarts houses, but the Sorting Hat had placed her in Gryffindor because her courage, when engaged, outshined even her incredible ability to retain knowledge, and eclipsed her ambitious need for recognition and her drive to constantly be right. But if she'd not had that opportunity to let her courage out…

Harry glanced at the wizard beside him. Percy scowled at the blowing snow. He was a Gryffindor, but a Gryffindor without a war. Instead, he had cauldron thicknesses to standardize.

"Stop staring at me," Percy gritted. Gryffindor, yes, and still a prat.

Harry began to shiver. He picked up a twig and cast Charlie's Brolly Charm. The resulting umbrella was heavy and a bit woody, but it was big enough to share, and it kept the wind off of them. Percy nodded his thanks.

"Are you nervous about going after the Horcrux?" Harry asked.

"No."

Harry knew that he was. Dueling, Percy was the weakest among them, and he didn't have physical stamina or battle experience going for him, either. And he had a wife at home, of which he continually reminded them. Someone was counting on him remaining alive and intact. Someone needed him to come home. But then, Harry wasn't certain why Percy hadn't simply gone back to England…though he thought perhaps it had something to do with what the Sorting Hat knew about him.

"You're staring again."

With a sigh, Harry looked into the darkness and thought of Ginny. She would be going back to Hogwarts tomorrow. Without Charlie or Ez. Without him or Ron or Hermione. Would they assign a new Head Girl? Probably not. They hadn't officially withdrawn from school, so it would be assumed that they'd return. Ginny would still be able to sleep in the Head Girl's room. And, with the Aurors roaming the corridors, she should be safe enough. Tonks would be there, after all. And most likely Lupin as well – McGonagall would need someone to cover Defense again.

And still, Harry worried.

His vision blurred, and Harry blinked just as the white-hot pain sliced down the center of his forehead. He doubled over, and heard Percy as if from a distance, but all he could make out was the pain and the pressure threatening to blow his head apart. Snow was in his face. Cold and hot and…

_There you are…Harry…_

_Get out of my head!_

_Now, now. Is that the way to great your old friend?_

_I'm going to hunt you down- _Harry began, but he felt Voldemort's laughter and it hurt. He tried to shove his hand through his skull to stop the pain.

_Ah…the storm. So, the rumors were true, were they? You are coming for me. Good, Harry. I'll be waiting._

_Shove off!_ Harry's Fist made stunning contact, and he felt Voldemort fall out of his head.

_Harry?_ It was Ez. Her presence in his mind was almost a balm after Voldemort's torture. He opened his eyes to find she was kneeling in front of him, holding his face in her warm hands. She was looking into his head, searching, and he could feel her concern. There was an odd buzzing.

"He's gone," he told her, and pulled away. The buzzing hurt. The cold hurt. "I pushed him out again."

"So you did," she said with a smile, and left his mind. "Good for you."

"He knows we're here. He's close by, and he thinks I'm coming for him."

Hermione knelt down on Harry's other side. "Well, he's wrong, isn't he? We're going after the Horcrux."

Ez didn't say anything to this, but she stood, and headed back to the house. As she passed an anxious Ron and Charlie, she said over the building wind, "He's fine. He's stronger now. He's ready. We'll go tomorrow."


	27. Chapter 26 Falling In A Different Dire

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 26 – Falling In A Different Direction

The world looked as if it were covered in a shroud. Skeletal trees stood still and silent. Snow muffled the sound of their movements as they worked their way along the path that Charlie made in the ankle-deep snow. There was rushing water somewhere down in the valley to Harry's left, but all he could see was the swirling gray air down there, and Percy's fur cloak swishing in front of him.

No birds moved in the cold, thick air, and there was no real sun overhead; just a pale gray orb against an even more gray sky. The fog was disorienting. Their footsteps crunched in the most peculiar way. The hair on the back of Harry's neck prickled, and he looked back over his shoulder into the mist.

"I think we're being watched," he said, though he didn't see how it was even remotely possible.

"It's the fog," Charlie called back to him.

"It's magical?" Percy asked. "He can do that?"

"You'd be amazed by what Lazar Wizmere can do. Fog is nothing for him."

"But… it's everywhere. It fills the whole valley," Percy said.

"Yeah," Charlie grimly agreed. "It does."

The stone circle was built on a flat span cut into the side of the mountain. It was no more than ten feet across, and made up of boulders that barely rose higher than Harry's waist – small as circles go. But there was something about this stone circle that left a strange tingle on the backs of Harry's ears.

When Charlie stepped inside, he turned and asked, "Have any of you ever traveled by stones before?"

Ron gave Harry an alarmed glance. "We're traveling by stones?"

Harry gave him a shrug. "It's got to be better than Apparating." Most things were.

"Stones?" Percy asked. "Oh, right. I've heard of this. It's like a primitive Floo Network. Of course, the stones in Britain were all disconnected centuries ago. Stone circles are unsafe."

Charlie smirked. "Step in, Percy. I promise it's a trip you'll never forget."

"You're mad."

"As a hatter." Charlie's grin was contagious, and Harry found himself chuckling as he stepped inside.

"How does this work, exactly?" Hermione asked, obviously unnerved by Percy and Ron's apprehension.

"It's easy," Charlie assured. "One person says the name of the circle you want to walk out of, and everyone inside is transported together. The number of stones in the circle determines how many people can be transported at once. This circle can move eight. See? Easy as pumpkin pasties. Are you going to join us, Percy?"

He reluctantly stepped in to the circle. "This is uncivilized."

"Yes," Charlie said, "the British have long determined the definition of civility. _Cuib cu balaur_."

The stones and the ground inside them remained perfectly still, but the world outside began to spin clockwise. Mist melted away, and valley and trees whipped around them with a roar. Percy grabbed his head and ducked closer to the ground. Harry watched as the scenery blurred past. He felt the movement in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed convulsively to keep it down. Not so much better than Apparating, then.

Then the whirling began to slow, and the sound to settle. The stones that surrounded them now were larger, and one of them had distinct markings carved into the side. They looked like a rough-cut dragon. Harry staggered a few steps out of the circle. This new valley looked much like the last, so they couldn't have traveled too far, but the fog had less of a hold here, fraying out into ribbons that clung to tree trunks and settled in the narrow valley below.

"All right, then," Charlie said, "repeat after me: _noapte loc adăpostit_."

"_Nopet lock aduhposti_," Harry repeated.

"What?" Percy said.

"It's the incantation you need to get back," Ez told him. "This is serious, Percy. _Noapte loc adăpostit._"

Percy frowned. "_Nosept la aduhpocity_."

"_Nopy lack attapost-it._" Ron tried.

"_Nopy loh aduposi_," Hermione said.

"_Nosy los aliposit_."

Charlie stared at them for a moment and then exchanged a long look with Ez. "We'll stay together then, shall we?"

Unlike the circle they'd just come from, there was no easy path through the forest on this end of the valley. They crept quietly through dense dried scrub and fallen trees, and spongy layers of dead and decaying leaves. Even in the cold the stink of decay was thick and humid.

They walked for a short distance before Charlie waved his wand and a rickety wood plank bridge formed out of thin air to span across the valley to the other slope. The river was a white ribbon of swirling mist at least five hundred feet below. Harry swallowed. He'd never been afraid of heights on his broom, but the rope bridge was a little too flimsy for comfort.

"It's magical," Charlie assured. "It's safe."

"Why don't you transfigure it to look safe then?" Percy snapped.

"I'll go first to be sure there are no surprises. Mere will come over last. No more than two on the bridge at a time."

"Two at a time?" Ron balked. "I though you said it was safe."

Percy turned to Harry. "It's not too late. We can go back to England right now while we're all still alive and whole."

"I have to get the Horcrux," Harry told him.

"You know he's not going to stop at some locket, don't you. He's going to kill someone today. And we're all going in with him."

"I have to go."

Percy shook his head. "You don't. We can turn around now-"

"I can't. You do what you want."

The wind was brisk and steady as Harry carefully chose his steps across the bridge. Ron wasn't far behind him, and Hermione would start once Harry reached the other side. He didn't look down. Charlie watched and gave an encouraging wave every minute or so as they made their way across. It was a long way over, and the bridge wobbled with every step. Why weren't they flying? Wizards were meant to ride brooms.

The pain came out of nowhere, and slammed Harry's head so hard he lurched backward. His grip on the rope rail was the only thing that kept him from tumbling over the edge.

"Harry!" He felt the bridge jostle as Ron ran toward him, but he couldn't think, couldn't move beyond his hand like a vice on the rope.

_"Come to me my pet. Tell me it is done."_

_"I found it, my lord, but I could not reach it. There is a locked door at the top of the spire, and it resisted all my magic. Please, my lord, have mercy! I –AHHHH!"_

Harry felt the surge of satisfaction, and the sexual charge that always accompanied one of Voldemort's torturous spells.

Cold hands on his face, on his hand. A voice too distant.

_"You will get me that locket, Wormtail. I have no tolerance left in me. I will have my heirloom in my hand before the sun sets, or I will have your heart."_

_"You will have the locket, my lord, I swear it to you."_

"Harry! Close your eyes!" It was Ron's voice, but it didn't make any sense.

"Wha…?"

"He's in your head, Harry! Don't let him see!"

Harry clamped his eyes shut. _Get out of my head!_

_Harry? Is that you?_

The imagined Fist pushed Voldemort away, and the pain receded back to a dull throb. Harry's stomach turned, Ron held him as he retched over the side of the bridge. He blinked, and the cool air against his damp face made him shiver. Spittle froze on his chin. Ron wiped it away with his sleeve.

"He's all right!" Ron called back. "No, no, I've got him!" And then he asked quietly, "You are all right, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Harry let Ron help him up. "I know where the Horcrux is in the castle. And Wormtail is on his way to fetch it right now."

"This is the third attack in two days. He's getting stronger."

"I…I don't think so," Harry said. "He's close by. I don't think he meant to reach out to me this time, but I'm so close it just happened. He seemed surprised that I was there." Ron steadied him as he forced one foot in front of the other. The bridge swayed, and Harry's stomach lurched. "My head is killing me."

"If Wormtail is going to be there…are we walking into a trap?"

"He doesn't know we're here. He doesn't know we're after it, too. Voldemort thinks I'm hunting him, not the Horcrux…I think."

"Harry." Ron stopped him and waited until he turned around. "Hermione's here. And my brothers. And well, Ez, and she's…you know. Harry, if this could in any way be a trap-"

"It's not."

Ron gave him a hard look while he searched Harry's eyes. "I want you to remember what it was like when Hermione fell down the stairs. Remember what she looked like all crumpled up at the bottom. Remember what if felt like when she was lying in that hospital bed and Madame Pomfrey was saying brain damage. Now, tell me this isn't a trap."

Ron was right. They were risking a lot.

A dark object caught Harry's eye just over Ron's shoulder. "Oh, bloody…" It circled in the air above them. "Run." He gestured wildly to Charlie. "RUN!"

"Hurry!" Charlie called.

The bridge shook and groaned under their steps, as Ron and Harry sprinted for Charlie and the safety of solid mountainside.

"Hurry!" Charlie called again.

The moment they reached the other side, Charlie touched his wand to the bridge and it vanished again. "Don't argue, Mere," he growled at the witch in his head. "There isn't time!"

He led Harry and Ron on a run through the trees, kicking snow and dead limbs up from the ground as he went, following a trail only he could make out. There was no time to question, so Harry followed as best as he could. Ron, with his long legs, was able to keep up with his brother when Harry began to fall behind.

"Gotcha!"

A hand reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulder with enough force that, at the speed he was running, his legs were kicked out from under him and he landed hard on the ground. A cloud of powered snow plumed up around him, and as it settled it sparkled in the diffused morning light. He couldn't get his lungs to work, and his eyes watered, blurring his sight, but Harry gripped his wand and pointed it at the center of the white, gaunt face peering down at him.

"Ah…the scar. I thought it was you. Hello, Harry Potter." He looked Harry up and down much the same way Harry had seen Ron case the front window at Honeydukes. Then he grabbed Harry's shoulder again and, with strength unnatural for arms so thin, he hauled Harry up to his feet.

Harry gasped, his lungs burned as they began to pump again, and he coughed a little as he stood. His wand remained steady.

"You're a vampire."

Black, thin hair framed a face as white as the snow around them, and eyes a deep, blood red. His gaunt face twisted into a smile and he gave a velvety laugh.

"Oh, you mustn't say it as if you disapprove." His tenor was thickly accented. "I am what I am, wizard."

Harry wiped at the snow crystals on his glasses. They smeared and refracted the light, and made it hard to focus on the vampire. "What do you want?"

But the vampire didn't answer. Instead his smile widened, and he glanced over Harry's shoulder. "And there is Charliz now. I knew he would not go far from his lamb."

Jogging back toward them, Charlie called, "Claudau. Leave him alone."

"Harry! Are you all right?" Ron yelled as he passed his brother to get to Harry's side first. His wand was already trained on the vampire.

"As you can see, your young friend is quite untouched." The vampire's unblinking stare unnerved Harry. There was a residual dizziness from being knocked down, and Harry blinked to try to clear his head.

"I said knock it out," Charlie barked. "He's got some Legilimency, so your Suggestion won't work on him."

"More's the pity." The vampire broke his gaze, and a shiver went through Harry. Instantly, the dizziness cleared.

"Claudau," Charlie said. "Are you alone?"

"Quite."

"You're out…the sun." Charlie seemed unnerved, and Harry tightened his grip on his wand. Something wasn't quite right. How did Charlie know a vampire? There was an odd familiarity between them.

"I ate well last night. Blood that fresh allows me a little sun today, a little darkness tomorrow." The vampire shrugged. He wore a black shirt and trousers under his black robes, and shiny black shoes. He stepped toward Charlie, swept his cloak and coat back, and slipped his hands gracefully into his trouser pockets. "I heard you went home."

"My brother's wedding," Charlie told him. "It was just a visit."

"You did not say good-bye."

Charlie's eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond.

"And Esmerelda…she is back, as well? I smell her on you. The _visit_ went well, then."

Again, Charlie didn't respond.

"And how is the bitch?"

"Where is Imoroaică?" Charlie countered.

"About." The vampire waved his hand in a vague gesture. "With the _Drăculeşti._ Join me for tea? We should talk. Become reacquainted. I have news."

And then his eyes slipped to Ron, just over Harry's shoulder now, and another slow smile spread across his face. He inhaled deeply. "Ah…another Weasley. Charliz, I'm starting to think you care, bringing me all of these pretties..."

Charlie took a step forward, purposely putting himself between Harry and Ron and the vampire. "Tell me the truth, Claudau – is the _Drăculeşti_ is in the castle?"

"Ah, Charliz." With narrowed eyes, the vampire raised a single finger, and ran the tip of his pointed nail across Charlie's brow, slowly down the center of his nose, and over his lips where the vampire's red irises lingered. Charlie didn't flinch away, and the vampire gave a small nod. "He's there," Claudau confirmed.

"Are you going to betray us?"

"You know I cannot help."

"That isn't what I asked."

"You wound me," the vampire said. It was then that he took a step back from Charlie. "We are friends, are we not?"

"What about Imoroaică?"

"Ah… Imoroaică." He said the name as if it tasted of rare wine. "If she asks, you know I cannot protect you."

"But if she doesn't ask," Charlie pressed. "Can I count on you?"

The vampire cocked his head, and leveled his gaze. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. "You have nothing to fear from me, Charliz. You never have."

Charlie laughed. "No? You are so transparent. Mere is in my mind, Claudau. She won't let you Seduce me."

"Ah…the lovely Ézmâreldi. Yes, she always was…territorial. Is it the female of the species, do you think? Imoroaică is the same way. Forever protecting me from myself."

"Funny. That's not how I remember Imoroaică."

"Yes, well, you brought out the worst in her…or the best, depending on your point of view." Claudau laughed. "She means well."

Charlie scoffed. "She wants to Turn me."

"She wants to eat you. _I _want to Turn you. For your own good, I assure. Once you thought to be Turned–"

"That was a long time ago."

"Not so long," Claudau said lightly. "But, I see you have reconsidered. It would be interesting to see, though, what it might do to your Ézmâreldi. No? No, I suspect not. So, then, Ézmâreldi is in your mind again and your long, dark night is ended - just as I said it would. Tell me, did she run back into your arms, or did you drag her back by her hair? Something tells me she might like it rough. Not like you, though, Charliz. My gentle lamb."

"Is the entrance to the castle barred? Can we get in the back way?"

"Castle? What castle?" Ron demanded. "All I see up there is ruins." He nodded over his shoulder, and Harry saw the ruins he was talking about – grey stone and red brick looming over the dead valley, crumbling and gaping.

"It's glamoured to look that way," Charlie hastily said.

"Glamoured against Wizards? Not just Muggles?"

"Why not come to my cottage? We can discuss strategy over tea as civilized people. As I have said, I have news."

"Claudau, you won't deter me. I will get into the castle this morning."

"You will not survive. The climate has shifted here. Not even the _Drăculeşti_ can control the darkness that descends. _He_ is here. _He_ lives." That _he_ was not a reference to the Dragon, Harry knew, but to Voldemort. So, they didn't speak his name, even here.

"Tell me something I don't know," Charlie muttered

"I do tell you, and you do not listen!" His tenor was sharp as a knife blade as his charms failed him. His anger tipped into something very like panic, Harry thought. "Go home, Charliz. Take your bitch and go back to England. Ah…speak of the devil herself."

The vampire glanced over his shoulder. Ez was there like a black specter in the trees, in her skirts and robes and cloak. "_Bun venit casă, iubită._"

"Didn't I kill you?" she casually asked as she moved to join them, and added a sarcastic, "_Iubit._"

"Nothing more than a scratch, I assure you."

"Where's Hermione?" Ron called to her. Percy was missing, too.

"I sent them back," Ez assured. Ron didn't look as if he believed her, and Harry wasn't sure that he did, either. Hermione never would've voluntarily gone back.

"I am glad to see you, Claudau. You can get us in to the castle," Ez said.

The vampire shook his head. "The front door will drop you in their lap. The back door will put you up their arse." He glanced at Charlie and smirked. "Oh, yes, I forget to whom I speak."

Harry stepped forward. "We need to get into the room at the top of the spire. But the door's locked, and it resists magic."

"The spire?" Ez glanced up as if she could see it. "How do you know about the spire?"

"I didn't come for what's in the spire," Charlie said darkly. "I'm going in the back. Lazar won't be far from-"

"No! Let's not split up. We'll come back another time, Charlie," Ron reasoned. "Harry's right. Let's focus on the spire, get the horcrux-"

"Their defenses will be up after today. No, we attack from above and below. They won't know what hit them. Harry, you and Ron take the spire. Claudau will get you in, and when you find what you're looking for Disapparate. And then, tell Percy to get you a Portkey out of Romania. Don't wait for us," he said.

"Wait," Ron began.

Charlie's eyes poured into Ez. "Are you ready for this?" he whispered to her.

"I love you," she replied.

He held out his hand to her, and she laced her fingers with his. They stared at their clasped hands for a moment, and then Charlie began to lead her toward the ruins.

"Harry," she called behind them. "Remember what we've taught you! You've already used Flannigan's Fist today, so be careful! You won't be able to use it again. Don't take any unnecessary risks! And whatever you do, don't trust Claudau!"

_Be careful yourself,_ he thought at her.

_It's been an honor knowing you, Harry. _

_No,_ he thought. _The honor has been mine._

* * *

Unless you control the broom, flying is nothing more than falling in a different direction. Harry knew vampires could fly, and he knew they didn't have wings. These things were taught in Defense class. But he'd never seriously given that paradox any thought until Claudau, with his spindly arms and frail physique grabbed Harry's arm with supernatural strength, and then Ron's, and hauled the both of the up into the air. Claudau could fly. And Harry fell up.

"Do not struggle!" Claudau ordered.

It was impossible not to. Harry clung to the vampire's boney arm, even though Claudau's grip held tighter than Harry ever could've hoped to. His legs kicked against the feeling of an impending plunge. Trees shrank below them as they soared, and the ruins of the castle seemed little more than an organized rubble heap under a blanket of snow.

"Why don't we have our brooms?" Ron demanded in a hoarse, breathless complaint.

"Never again, mate," Harry assured.

When instructed, Harry kicked out his foot and his toe slammed into stone. He blinked, trying to force his eyes to see beyond the magic that kept the castle hidden.

"The ledge is higher," Claudau told them. "Step up, and on to it, and you will be through the magical barrier."

"It's not like at Hogwarts. It's only hidden from Muggles," Ron grumbled.

"I expect the wizards here have more enemies," Harry ventured as he found his footing. He took a deep breath, and reached out to the stone frame that lipped the side of the window. It wasn't much to cling to, and the wind that high up was quite strong. He had to tuck his wand away in order to get enough purchase to haul himself on to the window ledge.

Instantly, it was as if the world materialized around him. The stone wall was gray and cold, and the ledge he stood on was ankle deep in snow. The spire towered not only over the castle, but the whole of the valley; the vista was sweeping, dizzying. The vampire hovered for a moment, skimming his eyes once more over Harry, before diving down past ramparts and gargoyles and crenellations. He flew so far down he became nothing more than a black spec, and then he disappeared into the white of the mountains below.

"Hermione's going to die when she hears about this," Ron muttered. "Didn't Lockhart claim to have been flown by a vampire once?"

"How the bloody hell should I know?"

The window behind them was as wide as three of them laid end to end, and five times as tall. Harry peered in, but wasn't able to make out much in the darkness except for three other windows lining the circular room.

"Reckon anyone's home?"

Harry shook his head. "Can't tell." He touched the window with his wand – _Abolesco_ was one of the first non-verbal spells he'd learned. It was possible that it was the same spell he cast all those years ago at the zoo on Dudley's birthday, though he hadn't known it at the time. When he'd learned the spell in third year Charms, though, it had been ridiculously easy for him – so much so that Hermione had glared at him straight on through supper that night. It was amazing how simple spells came in so handy in difficult situations.

When he and Ron climbed down from the ledge, and it was clear that they were alone in the large room, Harry put the glass back. Stone floor, stone walls, towering ceiling that was most certainly the wood peaked roof of the spire. There was a large wood door that looked as solid as anything at Hogwarts, and shelves crammed full of everything from books to mortars to skulls lining the circular walls. Tapestries hung above the shelves, and rugs stretched out below their feet. The room smelled musty and stale. A thin layer of dust covered most everything. The shadows were thick, and a perpetual darkness clung in the nooks even after Ron lit several of the slab candles. The door was locked. Harry went ahead and cast another Lock Charm, just in case.

"We're looking for the locket, then?" Ron asked. "Any idea where to start?"

He didn't. "Wormtail thought it was in this room somewhere. But he didn't say anything more."

"It would probably be in something," Ron said. "Chest or something, yeah? Trunk? Curio?"

"Maybe," Harry conceded, "if they know what they have. Incidentally…when we were on the bridge…how did you know he was in my head?"

"Voldemort?" Ron said casually as he glanced over a set of shelves, but Harry could tell that it bothered him. "Your eyes. They were changed. Red. Snake-like."

Snake-like. Harry had worn Voldemort's eyes.

"I need to learn how to block him from getting in, not just how to push him out once he's in there." Flannigan's Fist only did so much good. When they were well and truly on their Horcrux hunt, a couple of seconds glance through Harry's eyes could be devastating.

"You're sure it's a locket we're looking for?" Ron asked. "Not something else?"

"I hope not. If it's not a locket it could be anything."

"Like this?" Ron held up a big marble bust of some bloke with a thick mustache.

"Yeah," Harry chuckled. "Voldemort put part of his soul in that."

"Well, he put part of his soul in some mangy diary, didn't he? Who's to say it has to make sense?"

Ron had a point. "Wormtail said it was a locket," Harry reminded him. "So, let's look for a…" Up on the shelf beside the jars of eyeballs and kidneys, and in front of a book on spiders that happened to be covered in webs, sat a small glass dome. Harry carefully reached up, but felt not even a tingle when he lowered the case down to eye-level.

"That's not a locket, is it? It's a chain of office."

Ron was right. The thick gold chain was at least a thumb's length wide, and folded back on itself to display the amulet that hung heavy from it. "It's not a locket, but it's the Slytherin coat of arms." The serpent curled in an S, set with emeralds on a silver field.

"So, we're not looking for a locket, then?"

"What are the odds that something of the Slytherin House is being kept up here in this spire, protected by a magically locked door inside a magically hidden castle and it's not in some way connected to Voldemort?"

Ron considered his question. "If they're Death Eaters, they might have collected it. I'm sure Lucius Malfoy would love to have a gem like that."

"I can't imagine Voldemort would mistake this for a locket – and he did say locket. But what if it _is_ this?"

"Does it open? Maybe there's a concealed-"

The shattering of glass and a blast of cold wind startled them both. Harry tucked the small case close to his chest as both he and Ron raise their wands at the mass of cloak that hurdled through the window. Claudau gracefully recovered.

"They're here!" he said. "You must away at once!"

But just as he got the words out, the door slammed open with a bang so loud Harry felt it in his chest. Wizards ran in with wands blazing, but that wasn't what turned Harry's blood cold. With them was the most savage looking creature he'd ever seen. Her skin was whiter than chalk, her eyes as red as the freshest blood, and her long, tangled hair was knotted with strips of red fabric that looked as if they'd been torn form her ancient, blood-red gown. Her skeletal face was twisted in a snarl that displayed yellowing fangs and a pointed tongue. She wasn't human - she didn't even look human enough to be a vampire. She moved like lightening, and flew at Harry with both clawed nails and bare feet leading the way.

He ducked, threw himself into a roll and ended up sprawled on the stone floor beside Ron, who was crouched and firing between volleys from their attackers.

"Do you have the chain?" he called over the din of the battle. Above them a jar exploded and showered them in a rain of formaldehyde and entrails.

"Got it!"

"The cottage?"

"Yeah!"

Ron Disapparated with a CRACK, and Harry was just about to follow him when an all too familiar voice called out, "Lazarius!_ Mie combate!_"

The blasting stopped, and for half a second there was silence in the spire. And then a new series of spells erupted, but now away from Harry. Esmerelda's name was called out in an angry Romanian accent. The sound of magic slamming into a Shield Spell crackled through the room.

Harry peeked over the table to find Charlie and Ez near the door, Charlie battling with the six other wizards now trained on them, and Ez Shielding. She stood in front of him, and took as much of the brunt of the fire on her Shield as she could.

Taking aim, Harry was about to Petrify the closest wizard to him, when the vampire creature flew from out of no where and tackled him to the ground. Her talons dug deep in his chest, and she screeched as she bared her fangs for a bite. Harry managed to jam his arm up to protect his neck, and felt twin stabs sink into his skin. Pain flew like fire up his arm, and panic warred with reason. He flailed against her, and blood spattered, flesh tore. He cried out, a guttural protest. She was stronger than Harry could ever have imagined any creature being. His wand…where was his wand?

It had dropped from his grip when he was thrown to the ground. He grabbed wildly for it, and turned his head just enough to see that it had rolled under the table he'd been hiding behind. He reached for it, strained for it. "_Accio!_"

The wand flew into his hand, and he shouted, "_Lacarnum inflamarae!_" A large ball of fire shot from the tip of his wand and engulfed one side of the vampire's torn gown. She wailed as she flew away from him, and Harry cast at her again.

Claudau jumped over the table and landed like a great cat on top of Harry. His eyes were fierce from battle, his teeth bared. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice low and his face uncomfortably close to Harry's. "Watch who you burn, Harry Potter."

"Me?" Harry demanded. "That thing attacked me! Look at my arm!"

"It's nothing."

The creature flew back down and hissed something in a language that sounded far older than Romanian. Claudau's expression changed, went softer. He glanced over his shoulder at the other vampire as if she were the most precious, beautiful, wonderful thing in the world. Harry remembered seeing Charlie look at Ez that way. It was ludicrous.

Then Claudau gazed back down at Harry, and ran a long fingernail along the side of his face as if considering, debating.

A wild scream echoed through the room, and Harry knew Ez had been hit. Charlie cried out in anguish, and Claudau shot up. "Charliz?" He jumped off Harry, who scrambled up and away from the distracted vampires.

Charlie was crouched in front of Ez, unable to touch her because he was locked inside his Shield Spell that blocked her from the rest of the fire. A Double Shield Spell would've allowed him to touch her, to help her. Where the hell was Hermione?

Four of the wizards were crumpled on the ground, but the eldest still stood and shot hex after hex; his gravely tenor reverberated with raw power. The other wizard was, Harry was shocked to realize, none other than the Standau from Ez's mind. He was as tall and broad and unkempt as Ez had remembered at the Burrow, but now even more grizzled. He looked to be having the time of his life, and the maniacal expression he wore was tinged with madness.

The Shield Spell was failing. Ez was curled on her side, trying to cast and hold her stomach at the same time. She didn't look as if she was doing either effectively. Harry Stunned Standau an instant before the creature was on him again, though he jerked just in time and her fangs missed his neck and sank deep into his shoulder. The pain buckled his knees. He went down hard on one side. His mind fogged and the sounds of battle seemed to distance. His lips tingled. The fall yanked him from her mouth, and he managed to roll away before she could pounce again.

"Claudau! Get her out of here! Please! She can't Apparate! Claudau!"

The old wizard lowered his wand. His gaze fell on Ez, and he took a step closer. Charlie didn't dare lower what was left of his Shield so that he could fire, and Harry could see the inner struggle play out on his face.

The wizard spoke in Romanian. He was barely winded. Ez responded with a fierce retort, but Harry could tell, even without understanding the words, that it was all bravado. She'd been badly hurt. Charlie looked devastated when he added to her response. The old wizard laughed. Indignation blossomed into fury, and Harry raised his wand. Without even looking at him, the wizard raised his off hand at Harry, and Harry flew back to crash into the bookshelf behind him. Heavy tomes and specimen jars crashed down on top of him.

"Harry!" Charlie called. "Get the hell out of here!"

The renewed blasts of curses against a failing Shield Spell burned thick in the air. Failing magic smelled like an oncoming storm, thick and wet.

Harry knew the second Charlie fell. It wasn't Ez who cried out, but Claudau. The vampire rushed forward, and in the next instant Harry saw him fly through the air and out the window with Ez clutched against him with one hand, and Charlie's arm firmly seized in the other. The vampire creature howled her outrage. The old wizard stepped forward and peered at Harry from the other side of the table. He raised his wand, and…

Harry Disapparated out.

* * *

It took a couple of seconds for him to get his bearings, and when he did he saw Ron and Hermione running toward him. He'd managed to Apparate almost exactly where he intended, only instead of sitting on the stone bench in front of the cottage, he was in the snow in front of it. His shoulder and arm burned. His head still swam from the sensation of being squeezed through a tube, and having fought Voldemort from his mind, and the vampire…bloody Merlin, she was horrible. He thought if he could just close his eyes for a minute he might be able to stand.

"Harry! What happened?" Hermione fretted over the blood seeping out on his ruined shirt, and the snow. Blood on snow, it was a brilliant red.

"Brilliant," Harry said, echoing his thought.

"I think he's going into shock," Hermione said, as if he wasn't sitting right there.

"I'm not. I'm just…where's Charlie? Have you seen them? Are they back yet?"

"Not yet, mate."

"He needs a healer."

"He needs a bloody hospital."

"Well, if we knew where one was-"

"I know where St. Mungo's is-"

"Yes, Ron, we all know where St. Mungo's is. Now, think! Does Percy know any Healing Spells?"

"He's not back yet. He's still fetching the bloody Portkey."

"What about Tibor? Magda?"

"Couldn't you just, you know, Scourgify me or something?" His shoulders began to shake. "Or, at least, help me out of the snow."

They got him up, and Harry headed for the cottage. Inside, Hermione lit the small fireplace. It crackled happily with blue magical flames that felt amazing when Harry turned his backside to their warmth. And then something occurred to Harry. "Where's the chain?"

"We buried it," Ron told him. "Me and Hermione, just after Percy left. We reckoned if someone were to come after it, we wouldn't want it just laying around on a shelf or something." He cracked a smile.

"Here," Hermione said as she placed a folded tea towel over Harry's shoulder. "It looks like it hurts."

"A bit," Harry admitted. When she placed another towel against his arm he jumped. "Yeah, it hurts."

"Can you move your fingers? Well, that's a relief. Ron, hold his arm while I fashion a sling. Good magic, Harry! What is that smell? Formaldehyde?"

"Formaldehyde."

"You didn't Disapparate when I did," Ron accused in a quiet voice. He held Harry's arm with a light touch. "When you said the cottage, I assumed you'd be coming with me. I did try to Apparate back, but the castle must have a Single Track Charm or something. I couldn't get back in."

"Where's Charlie? We need to find them. If that vampire thing went after them-"

"I'm sure they got out, Harry."

"Yeah, mate."

"Then where are they? I need to go back."

"I'll go back," Ron volunteered. "Hermione, you fix Harry up-"

"Oh, no you don't! You're not ditching me again!"

"I never ditched you!" Ron said as if offended. "That was Ez! And it's your own fault for believing her. You had to have known she wouldn't leave Charlie to attack the castle on his own."

"Well, you're trying to ditch me now!"

"Someone's got to stay with – oi, Harry! Where are you going?"

He didn't bother to turn around. "I'm going to find Charlie and Ez. She was badly hurt."

"Badly? Oh, no!" Hermione gasped as she rushed after him. "Harry, here, at least put this on before we go." She handed him his cloak. He hadn't remembered taking it off. He stopped so she could clip it around his neck. It tugged on his shoulder. "You really should stay. Ron and I can find them."

"I'm all right."

"Really, Harry, you're not."

At that moment the door slammed open, and Charlie burst through with Ez in his arms. "Fetch Magda!" he bellowed. "Tell her Mere needs a healer!"

Claudau, looking as gaunt and frail as ever, stalked in the cottage after them, his sharp eyes taking in everything in one sweep. Hermione gasped. Ron stood taller, and Harry could see him grip his wand.

"Harry! Fetch a – bloody hell! You, too? Ron, Apparate to the house and tell Magda we need a healer now!"

Ron nodded, but was reluctant to leave Hermione with Claudau in the room. He gave Hermione a look before he Disapparated.

Charlie eased Ez on to the bed. "Merlin, Mere…" She curled on her side, holding her belly, and Charlie spread his palm wide over her hand. She closed her other hand over his and they looked into each other. It was incredibly intimate, painfully so. Harry turned away.

When he turned, Hermione was studying him, worried and biting her lip.

Claudau, for his own part, just collapsed down into the red leather chair and dropped his head in his hands. Black hair draped over his chalky face and hands. "She's never going to forgive me," he muttered. "Not in a century. Not in a millennia."

Charlie suddenly strode out of the bedroom and pointed to Harry. "I'm going for the healer. Stay with her."

"But Ron's already gone."

"I mean it, Potter. Sit there next to her and don't move!"

Harry hadn't a clue as to what he was expected to do if something were to happen. And Hermione seemed to be thinking along that same line. "But he's hurt!" she insisted.

"What?" Ez sat up and peered at Harry. The cloak didn't cover the sling his arm hung in, or the blood seeping through it. "Fuck! What happened to you?"

She looked as bad as he felt, so he felt queer complaining. He tried to give her a smirk, but he suspected it looked more like a grimace. "Claudau's girlfriend gnawed on me a bit."

Both Charlie and Ez froze, Charlie by the door, Ez climbing out of the bed.

"What?" Hermione said, her eyes wide as she took in the change from both of them. "What is it?"

"Bloody hell," Charlie muttered. He closed the door again and looked at Harry. Then he shot a look of accusation at the only vampire in the room.

"He is safe," Claudau said with not a little irritation. He scowled and shook his head. "She did not reach his neck."

"She doesn't need his neck," Charlie barked.

"She needs an artery," Claudau clarified. "She did not find one."

"How do you know?" Hermione challenged.

"I can smell it," the vampire replied.

Charlie wiped a blunt hand over his face. "This was almost a catastrophe."

"Almost," Ez agreed from the door.

"You," Charlie snapped, "in bed!"

"You," Ez spat, "don't tell me what to do!"

Charlie rolled his eyes, threw up his hands in frustration. "Why do you always have to bring that up? Do as I ask, Mere. This is not like in Făgăraş! "

"Really? Because it's starting to feel like it!"

Her flash of anger drained in the span of a gasp. At the same moment, all color drained from Charlie's cheeks, and he and Ez stood still, as if stunned, their faces ashen and drawn.

"What…what the bloody hell is that?" Charlie choked out. "Mere?"

"I think…" She touched her stomach. Harry's heart hammered. Something was wrong with her baby. She was going to lose another one. They said she almost bled to death the first time. Healer…where was he going to find a healer here? Where the bloody hell was Ron?

"It's moving," Charlie whispered. A strained, goofy grin lifted half of his face. "That's what it is, isn't it? It's the baby, isn't it? Moving?"

"It's never done that before," Ez said. A sheen of sweat broke out on her face. "Fuck, that's weird." Her knees went a little wobbly, and it was Hermione who was close enough to catch her. Charlie practically pushed her out of the way to scoop Ez up in his arms and carry her back into the bedroom.

"No, Charlie, it's fine. I'm…I'm fine," she protested. She wasn't fine, though. Her breath began to come in little puffs, and her eyes went unfocused.

"Ron! Where the hell is he? Hermione, go to the main house! Tell Magda-"

Ron POPPED back in. "Magda just left. She said it might take a while."

"A while?" Charlie roared. "How long could it possibly-"

"It's OK, Charlie. Calm down. I'm just…dizzy. Charlie-" She pulled him closer, and placed his hand firmly against the right side of her belly. "Can you feel?"

He closed his eyes in concentration. "No. Not with my hand."

"Oh, right," she breathed. "How do I forget I'm in your head?"

"Because it's where you're supposed to be." He pushed his other hand against his belly. "Mere-"

"I know. You don't have to say it."

"I can't lose this one, Mere. I can't lose you. I thought it would be alright, if we were together, but…"

Her face crumbled. She looked away. "I almost…what was I thinking rushing into Poenari that way?"

"No," he cooed and pulled her close. She let him slip her forward until her chin rested on his shoulder. "It wasn't you. It was me." He caressed the back of her head; smoothed her messy hair. "None of this was your fault."

She didn't believe him. Harry could see it in the tears that flooded her eyes. "I can't do this," she said quietly against Charlie's neck. "We can't do this. Please tell me we won't go back. Not now."

"It's real now."

"Too fucking real."

Quietly, Harry crept forward and pulled the door closed. He'd give them some time alone. When he turned Hermione was staring at him. Her concern was thick and suffocating, and he flinched away when she reached for him. "Harry, you don't look so good."

"Maybe you should sit down, mate," Ron suggested. "Have some tea."

"He doesn't need tea, Ron," Hermione snapped. She looked expectantly at Claudau. "You're certain her bite hasn't done anything to him?"

"It is nothing more than blood loss," Claudau said, distracted by the closed door. "Garlic will help. Press it into a paste and cover the wounds. He will recover his strength faster."

"Well, that's just lovely," Hermione muttered as she marched into the kitchen. "Garlic paste. No, he doesn't need a healer when we have condiments! Ron, help him off with his shirt."

The cloak and sling were easily removed, but the shirt had pressed against the clotting wounds, and Ron had to peel it away. The pain wasn't terrible, but the sight left Harry a little queasy. His shoulder was black from bruising, and ripped open in a jagged pair of gashes. His arm looked as if it had been hit with a Shredding Hex. Both fat and muscle were exposed. No wonder it hurt so much.

"Bloody hell," Ron gasped. "Hermione, I don't think garlic will be enough."

She hurried in with a mortar and pestle in her hands. "Why? What is it? Oh, Harry!"

Harry swallowed thickly. "I think I'm going to sit for a moment."

The bedroom door opened, and Charlie glanced around the room. He frowned when he saw Harry shirtless. With a nod to Ron he said, "Bring him in here. I don't want to wait for Magda - I'm going to fetch a healer. Claudau, walk with me." For a moment he and the vampire held each other's gaze.

And then from the bedroom Ez called, "Knock it off, bloodsucker! No Seducing my wizard!" Charlie chuckled. Claudau did not, but he followed Charlie out of the cottage anyway.

Harry walked into the bedroom under his own power. Ez was on her side, a hand covering her face as if she had a headache. "You alright?" Harry asked.

"Lie down before you fall down," Ez muttered. "You look like shit."

"Seen a mirror lately," Harry quipped as he gingerly lowered himself on to the bed. His hip and thigh were killing him. With his good hand he un-tucked his shirt, and shoved the side of his trousers down. A purple and blue bruise covered the whole area. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that fall."

"Hand me my wand," Ez told him. "I can fix bruises."

"I'll do it," Hermione insisted. "You rest." She muttered some incantation that Harry remembered Mrs. Weasley saying once when Hermione had a black eye. She touched the tip of her wand to his leg. The tenderness eased, and Harry was able to lie down on his side, bad arm up.

Ez stared at him until her eyes watered and her brows knitted. She rolled on to her back. She swallowed back the emotion. "Did you find what you were looking for today?"

"I don't know. I hope so."

"How do you find out?"

"I don't know."

"If it is, what are you going to do with it?"

"Destroy it."

"How will you do that?"

"I don't know."

She ran a hand over her belly. "How are you going to find out?"

Harry closed his eyes. "I know what you're saying. I'm not prepared."

She didn't let up. "What are you going to do to get yourself prepared?" She looked at him again. "I can help, but only so far. I'll teach you spells and defensive tactics. Charlie can help with that, too. And Tonks. And the Order. But that's only part of it. A small part. Fighting should always be a last resort. There are too many variables in a fight. Too much can go wrong."

Harry smirked. "I can't believe you just said that. You love to fight."

This made her smile. "Only when I know I can win. Or when I've got nothing to lose." Then she went serious again. She smoothed her hand over her middle. "The battle today – it was small. My grandfather wasn't paying attention. And, so, it should've been easy. I'm off my game. And Charlie…I don't know what I'm going to do with him."

"There were six of them, plus that vampire," Harry reminded her. "Six to two isn't a fair fight."

"Who said anything about fair? Did I ever tell you about Santiago?"

"He's been mentioned a few times."

"He died the night I Portkeyed into Bill's wedding. He was the most powerful wizard I've ever known, and the wisest. And the silliest. He was the first person in this world to show me unconditional kindness. He protected me even when I didn't want protection, and couldn't understand why he bothered. He was the first person I ever loved. He was my Dumbledore."

"He sounds lovely."

"My point," Ez said, and she turned toward him again, "is that they got him. It wasn't a fair fight, and I did everything I could to protect him, and in the end he sacrificed himself for the rest of us, and even then, I was the only one who made it out. His life for mine - it isn't fair. He should've been the one to survive. He could've helped you more than me. You would've liked him. Everyone did. No, life's not fair. It's hard and cruel and savage. And you have to be prepared."

"I don't even know where to start."

"Start with your assets. What are your assets, Harry?"

He tried to think, but his mind was mush after pushing Voldemort out earlier and his arm burned with pain with every breath he took. He was sweating and shaking a little. "I don't know."

"You do," Ez quietly assured him. "What are your best qualities?"

"Er…" He closed his eyes and swallowed. "I can fly."

"Exactly. What else?"

"I'm fair with Defensive Spells."

"You're fantastic at Defensive Spells. And?"

"And?" Harry echoed. She was staring at him with the corner of her mouth turned up. "And what?"

"Them," she said, and nodded toward the door. Harry shifted so he could see over his shoulder. Hermione and Ron stood together, arms loosely wrapped around each other, eyes closed and faces relaxed as if sharing a wonderful dream. "They're your best asset, Harry."

"I'm going to get them killed."

"Maybe," she said. "Or, maybe what they say is true, and you're the one who will save us all."


	28. Chapter 27 The Scenic Route

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 27 – The Scenic Route

Horcrux? Or not?

Harry stared down at the chain of office and ran his finger over the emerald S that twisted into a decorative snake. It was Slytherin's family crest, even Hermione agreed, but Harry couldn't be sure it was anything more than that.

"I've never seen it before," Ez had said when Harry handed it to her. She was still in bed, the healer having ordered strict bed rest for forty-eight hours as well as a series of potions to help strengthen her blood and protect the baby. Charlie was manic about following the healer's instructions to the letter, and as far as Harry could tell, Ez was all right with his fussing; which meant that either she still wasn't feeling herself, or there was some hidden part of her that enjoyed the attention. Harry worried that it was the former.

Strict bed rest kept her from taking the Portkey Percy arranged for them to ride back to England. Percy went on his own to tell the rest of the family that everyone was safe. Harry knew he wanted to get back to his wife, and he understood that desire. He missed Ginny terribly.

"Why don't we just destroy it," Ron suggested. "Either way then, no worries."

"It's an artifact!" Hermione insisted. "You don't just go around destroying bits of history on the off chance that they're a Horcrux!"

"It's Slytherin!" Ron objected.

"Slytherin is still a part of Hogwarts! Honestly, Ron, they're not all like Malfoy."

"Name one who isn't," Ron challenged.

Hermione's lips went thin, and she turned to Harry. "What do you think?"

"I think…I don't know." His arm still ached, and his head throbbed, and even after a full night of rest Harry still felt tired. The floor wasn't as comfortable as it had been when he lived in the cupboard under the stair.

"Do you need some more garlic?" Hermione asked.

"Enough with the garlic!" Ron snapped. "He's wearing enough garlic to make my eyes burn!" It was true. Harry smelled like a bowl of spaghetti.

"The healer said that garlic, both applied and ingested, would help his recovery. Vampire bites can be serious, even when they don't hit an artery."

"I know! But bathing him in garlic won't give him his strength back any faster. Just leave the bloke alone. Stop pestering-"

"I am not pestering!"

Harry got up from the table, and shuffled over to the couch. He dropped down next to Charlie, who was leafing through a copy of what looked like the Romanian version of _Witch Weekly_. Ron and Hermione continued to bicker, oblivious of Harry's retreat.

"Eh, Harry?" Charlie said quietly. "How's the arm."

"Good." He didn't really want to talk about it.

"Why don't you go lie down with Mere," Charlie suggested.

Harry smirked. "You won't mind if I share a bed with your Bondmate?"

Charlie laughed a little, and then sobered. "It's funny, but you might be the only bloke I wouldn't mind. She trusts you, and that's saying something. I can count on one hand the number of people in this world that she trusts - and I'm not always on that list." He smirked as he added, "Besides, I'm in her head. You make a move, Potter, and I know about it."

"How can you stand it? Her being in there all the time? When I was Bonded with Ginny, any stray thought I had could set her off. I wasn't even aware of what I was thinking half the time until she started shouting at me. Doesn't Ez rankle when you think about other girls?"

"Well, I don't often think about other girls," Charlie said, and then he chuckled again. "No, no, seriously though, she's used to it. It caused a lot of problems at the beginning. Mere can be insanely jealous. And we were both very young. She was just seventeen. It took her a long time to understand that what we shared was more important to me than any other girl. She hadn't had a lot of experience with being loved at that point. Santiago was the only real stable relationship she'd ever known, and even he shipped her off to England to help Dumbledore."

"Did you know Santiago?"

"Some. Not well. He visited two times while we lived here. He was still her Secret Keeper then. Nice wizard. But the thing I liked most about him was how he treated Mere. He called her _mi dulce_. My sweet. When he looked at her, he saw what I see. Not many people would call Mere 'sweet' and mean it."

"Well, not many people could get away with it," Harry quipped.

"How dare you suggest that I don't care about Harry!" Hermione practically shouted, her voice rising into its upper register.

"I said you were being careless! Stop twisting my words!"

"You're insufferable!"

"Me? What about you? Nag, nag all the time, but you don't want to _do_ anything useful!"

"So, now I'm useless?"

"I didn't say that!"

Hermione jumped up and grabbed her cloak from the peg by the door. "I can't stand you when you're like this!" she shouted over her shoulder as she stormed out into the snowy evening.

"When _I'm_ like this?" Ron chortled. "That's rich!" When the door slammed he shoved himself back from the table and hit his fist on it. "Bloody…" He didn't finish the thought. His face was red, and he looked as if he wanted to punch something that wasn't furniture. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, not wanting to be drawn into Ron's anger. He wasn't really up to a fight. It was best to leave Ron to cool off when he got like that.

"Been a while?" Charlie asked his little brother with an easy smile.

"It's been a whole bloody fortnight!" Ron wailed. "She's driving me mental!"

"Well, go after her," Charlie urged. "We won't look."

"Can't," Ron said with a discouraged sigh. "She won't here. She says it's too creepy, too cold, too crowded, too uncomfortable. She'll snog, but that just gets me all worked up. She's trying to kill me, I tell you!"

"Looks to me like she's suffering just as much."

"_It doesn't feeeeeeel right,_" Ron mimicked. "I'll tell you what doesn't feel right – sleeping next to each other on a hard floor like we're bleeding brother and sister! We had a close call in that spire! What's the first thing you want to do after a close call?"

"Shag like centaurs!" Charlie said with gusto.

"Thank you!" Ron called from across the room, his hands up in vindication. "But her? No, for her _it doesn't feel right_!"

Harry dropped his head back against the couch. He didn't want to hear this. "You're not pressuring her, are you?" Harry asked, despite himself.

Ron's eyes narrowed on him. "No. What kind of a berk do you take me for? If she doesn't want to, she doesn't want to. But it doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. And if you ask me, she's not any happier than I am. I mean, she just took my head off over nothing, didn't she? Bloody girl!"

"I thought you liked to row with her," Harry griped. "All those brains aimed right at you, or some nonsense."

"Well, I like to do other stuff now a hell of a lot more." Ron played with the chain, and flipped over the medallion. "So, are we going to destroy this thing, or what? I'm in the mood to blow something up."

"Give it a go," Harry said. With a groan he forced himself up off the couch. "I'm going to lie down."

"Er…Harry, before you go…" Charlie seemed hesitant, but then he seemed to reach a decision. "Harry, I'm taking Mere back to England. She should be able to travel the day after tomorrow, and I intend to get her as far from her family as I can, not that I've learned that particular lesson. I would like for the three of you to come with us."

Harry glanced over at Ron, who was watching and listening, and fiddling with the chain. He gave Harry a shrug.

"What if it's not the real Horcrux? Voldemort specifically said locket. I know he did. I don't think I can leave until I know for sure."

"No, Harry, you don't understand. We missed Percy's Portkey, and there's no way I or Mere, or you for that matter, can get one from the government here. Not without Lazarius knowing. I have to get her out through Muggle transport – specifically a train. It'll take us most of a week to get back to England, and…I'm asking you to come with us."

"Backup fire-power?" Ron asked, his interest peaked. "You expect trouble?"

"I can't Shield and attack at the same time," Charlie said. "I need help."

But if he left the Horcrux behind…

"Look," Charlie said, "this mess is all my fault. I never should've come here. I lost my mind, and I dragged all of you in with me. And Mere. And my son – I almost got them killed. I have to do better. I have to protect her. I have to make all of this right."

"But…you said that even if you take her back to England she won't be safe. None of you will be safe. You told Percy the Wizmeres would come after your whole family. After Ron and Ginny-"

"Yeah. They will. But there I can defend them. I hope to, at least. There I have Tonks and Lupin, and Bill and Dad – the whole Order. You saw how the fight at the castle went, Harry-"

"Wasn't it what you expected?"

Charlie's expression went grim, and his brows lowered transforming his face into something angry, deadly. "Yeah. But now…I've felt my son move. I felt him, Harry. He's…alive. He's counting on me to protect him until he's old enough to protect himself. I have to get him out of here. I have to protect Mere. The rest will have to wait."

"You can't protect me, Charlie. We've talked about this." She stood in the door, looking better than she had just a few hours ago. Color was back in her cheeks, and her eyes looked less bruised. The hair on the right side of her head stood straight up from where she laid on it.

But Charlie ignored her. His eyes pleaded with Harry. "I have no right to ask this of you, I know. I'm not your Secret Keeper. You've made no formal oath–"

"And this was why," Ez interrupted. "Fuck, Charlie, you know this is exactly why Dumbledore didn't want him in the Order! He knew that we would ask things of Harry that he can't do. His loyalty can't be to us. It's not fair to burden him with our problems. He has enough fucking problems of his own. If he needs to find this Horcrux thing–"

"I'll help you," Harry told Charlie. He looked over his shoulder to Ron. "Right? We go back to England with them?"

"If you say so," Ron agreed. "I don't know how we'd get back in the spire now, anyway. Like you said before, their guard is most certainly up. If they know what they have, they've probably moved it by now. I would."

"Harry, think about this," Ez cautioned.

A small BANG from the table behind him made Harry jump. With the cracked chain of office in one hand, and his wand in the other, Ron glumly quipped, "Well, I reckon that wouldn't have happened if it were a Horcrux."

Hermione rushed it, wand drawn. She took in Ron, the smoking remains of the chain, and rolled her eyes. "Lovely," she griped. Then she realized Ez was standing in the bedroom door. "What is it? What's happened? Why are you out of bed?"

"We're going home," Harry told her. He hadn't realized how much he wanted home until he said it aloud. Ginny filled his thoughts the rest of the night.

* * *

When they left the cottage, and said their good-byes to Magda and Tibor, Tibor gave them red Muggle Romanian passports with false names and still photographs that reflected the disguises they'd all adopted for the trip. A potion had been made to turn Ron's hair to mousy brown, and Magda trimmed it as short as Harry had ever seen it. Ron hated it of course, and complained when Harry's dyed and cut hair sprang back to its original state within an hour. Hermione's hair was straightened and dyed a blonde that Ron said was close to Luna's shade, and though Harry thought it looked closer to Lavender's, he was smart enough not to say so. Charlie's hair was turned black, and he wore a thick, bushy beard. He choked when Ez appeared from the bathroom with her now short hair colored a bright, bubblegum pink.

"That's not funny," he grumbled.

"It's a little funny," she insisted with a wicked smile. In her deep blue Bucharest University sweatshirt and jeans, her eyes a bright blue, and barely any make-up, Ez looked startlingly like Tonks.

"Her hair wasn't pink until after we left school."

"Come here, my wild man, and kiss me."

Harry's newest disguise was a knit hat that covered his hair and forehead, and mutton chop sideburns that grew in a bushy red when Magda hexed him with them. They all had a good laugh over it, but Harry wondered how he was going to get rid of them once they got back to England.

The bus ride to the train station was long and bumpy. A few of the Muggles looked at them curiously, as they were obviously traveling together and looked more like tourists than locals, but no one tried to speak to them, and the Muggles quickly lost interest.

It was the same at the train station, and boarding the train, as well. Not even the conductor bothered to get a good look at them as they produced the tickets Tibor supplied. They chose seats close to each other, Hermione and Ron across from Harry, who traveled backwards, and Charlie and Ez together across the narrow aisle. Charlie kept his head up, looking for any warning signs, but once the train lurched forward and it was clear that no threat would show itself, he relaxed a bit.

Hours passed. Harry alternately watched the passing scenery and flipped through a book Hermione produced from her bag. He was glad the Muggles weren't really watching because the amount of things she pulled out that bag was scary. Ron dozed, with his head lodged between the back of the seat and the metal train wall. Harry was about to nod off himself when Hermione gently kicked his ankle.

"Wha'?"

She made a shushing gesture and then nodded over at Charlie and Ez. They leaned against each other, and lightly held hands while their fingers played languidly together. Eyes closed, they gave soft, simultaneous laughs. Hermione grinned. Harry knew she thought it terribly romantic because she threw a small glance at Ron, who was softly snoring, and sighed.

"I expect you'll be happy to get home to Ginny," Hermione said in a hushed voice, turning back to Harry.

"She's at Hogwarts by now."

"Oh…are we not going to Hogwarts then?" Was that longing in her voice? Or just surprise?

"I…I don't know. We need a plan to hunt the Horcruxes, and to fight Voldemort. I know, Hermione, I know, but when we're at Hogwarts other things tend to get in the way. Like studies."

"Like Ginny?"

"Like Ginny," he agreed. Merlin, he missed her. He wondered what she'd think of everything that happened to them in Romania. He worried about what she'd say when she saw the healing scars on his arm and shoulder. He worried that she'd refuse to let him leave again.

"I have questions, though," Harry told her. "And I do think I need to go back to Hogwarts for the answers."

McGonagall was there at Hogwarts. And Lupin. They both knew his parents. And, maybe they'd know where he could find Hagrid, too. If Hagrid had been the one to take him to the Dursleys, then maybe he'd been the one to take him out of the ruins of his parents' house, as well. Maybe he'd seen something, noticed something that could be useful.

"I need to find Slughorn, too, I think. Or, someone who knows about Horcruxes. We need to know how to destroy them."

"You destroyed one already."

"That was luck, I think. Look at what happened to Dumbledore when he destroyed the ring. I don't want that happening to us."

Hermione nodded. She pulled out a fresh bit of parchment from her bag, and a quill. Harry glanced around to see if any of the Muggles noticed the eagle feather. None of them seemed to.

"Perhaps Slughorn will have an idea of likely Horcruxes, as well," Hermione suggested.

"Yeah. Good. Write that down."

The quill scratched.

* * *

They spent hours that first day brainstorming like that; things they needed and needed to know and people who could teach them, and places they could visit that might shed clues to unraveling the secrets of the Horcruxes and Voldemort's weaknesses. Supper was bread and cheese they'd packed at the cottage, and hot tea bought from the trolley. Hermione managed to produce a couple of sausages, too, which earned her a kiss on the cheek and a kind word from Ron. Harry was happy to see her blush at the praise.

At the Hungarian border a Muggle customs officer demanded they produce their papers again. Harry's small red passport now read _Magyar Köztársaság_, and inside his name was changed to Szabo Janos. Their documents were stamped without incident, though, and without any of them having to utter a word.

"Magda put a Diversion Jinx on us," Charlie explained. "Whenever a Muggle looks at us, they instantly think of something else they'd rather be doing."

That first night they slept in their seats, Hermione pillowed in Ron's lap with his jacket draped over her while he was slumped over her shoulder. Charlie slept in the corner of his seat with Ez curled up against him, her arms loosely draped around his middle. Both couples looked so completely…in love. It was the only way Harry could think to describe them. And suddenly he missed Ginny that much more.

Odd man out once again, Harry kept guard as well as he could with the gentle rock of the train luring him into sleep.

_"Avada Kedavra!" The green flash lit up the stone room, and the thrill of pleasure that coursed through him continued to hum in his veins as he surveyed the remains. They smoldered. Odd. And wonderful. He'd never seen a vampire die before._

_"My lord," called a bold, heavily accented voice. "The locket is not here. I explained-" _

_"But you had it."_

_"I did, my lord. It came into my possession almost by accident. One of my…associates was traveling abroad. He discovered a pathetic creature selling stolen wares out of Hogsmeade. He brought the locket to me, thinking only that it was a Salazar Slytherin heirloom, and nothing more."_

_"And where is it now?"_

_"Gringotts, my lord. In London."_

_Yesssssss… A safer place could not be found. "Then my treasure sits among the most treasured objects in the world."_

_"I thought it fitting, my lord. And after the cowardly attempt by my blood-traitor granddaughter, I see now that I was correct in protecting your…treasure. Shall I fetch it for you? Do you wish it returned?"_

_"Leave it where it lies, Lazarius. But, as it is under your protection now, I shall hold you personally responsible should it be stolen again."_

_"Yes, my lord…"_

The train whistle woke Harry, and he bolted up in his seat, chest heaving, and sweat drenching his face and neck.

"Bloody hell, Harry! You all right?"

"Yeah," he said, though he glanced around just to be sure. The train rocked along, and white countryside blurred past. Hermione blinked expectantly at him. Ez pursed her lips.

"Again?" she asked.

"He didn't know I was there."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah…" Harry told them briefly about the Horcrux now safely locked in Gringotts under Lazar Wizmere's name, before a second bolt of agony slammed through his forehead. He grabbed his skull and lurched forward. Hands were on him, trying to push him down into his seat, but he couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything except for the blood in his ears and his own muffled scream.

_Avada Kedavra!_

"Harry!"

"I'm…all right." He gulped in air and tried to force the nausea back. Voldemort was furious, and the killing only lightened his mood a little. "Wormtail is dead. He was wrong about the where the locket was. And…he didn't catch me. He didn't know I was there. It cost him his life."

"Just a migraine," he heard Hermione say to some passer-by.

He was given a small cup of water, and two white tablets. "Aspirin? Really?" he asked Hermione.

She shrugged. "It can't hurt, right? And you do look as though your head still hurts."

"But who…?"

"That Muggle woman over there."

"Do we trust random Muggles, now?" Ron asked, appalled.

"No," Ez said, and she took both the pills and the cup away.

Hermione knelt in front of Harry. "Does he know we've left Romania?"

"No…no, I don't think so."

"Better now?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, thanks."

* * *

In Vienna they switched trains, and this time got two compartments in a sleeper car. After supper that night, Harry excused himself to go to the loo and Ron announced that he would go with him. When Harry raised a questioning brow at him, Ron shoved him out the door.

"I was trying to be subtle," Ron whispered as they made their way down the car.

"By holding my hand in the toilet?"

"I want to talk to you. In case you haven't noticed, there's been no privacy."

"It hasn't slipped my attention."

"Well, we'd like a little."

When Harry glanced over his shoulder at his friend, Ron gave him a pleading look. "Come on. For an hour or two? Couldn't you kip with Charlie and Ez. Just give us a little…all right, just an hour. Half an hour? Twenty minutes? I could do well with ten, myself, but Hermione needs a good twenty-"

"All right, all right! Just stop talking! I don't want to think about it!"

"You're a good mate!" Ron called, already running back to the compartment.

"Yeah, yeah."

Once he finished in the loo, Harry made his way back to Charlie and Ez's compartment. He knocked, and then knocked again.

"Go away!" Charlie called.

"Stop that! It could be important."

There was a pause before Charlie called again. "Is it important? Who's out there?"

"It's Harry. But it's not important."

He reckoned there was a dining car somewhere on the train, and he could spend the night there, though it would be a lot less awkward, though, if he had some Muggle money. He was halfway down the car when he heard Hermione scream. Before he knew what he was doing, he had his wand out and was running back to the compartment. The door was locked. Harry pounded his fist against it.

"_Hermione!_"

"Go away, Harry!"

"No! Are you mad?" came Ron's voice just after hers. "We need him! We have to get that thing off you!"

The door swung open to reveal Ron standing in nothing but his white briefs, with his wand gripped tightly in his hand, and Hermione slipping a dressing gown on over bare shoulders.

"What's happened?" Harry asked. "Are you all right?"

But Hermione wasn't interested in answering Harry's questions. She glared at Ron as she tied the sash around her middle. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! I swear! It was the Charm!"

"But, you can't undo the Charm, Ron!" she wailed.

"I know!"

"So, how do you expect Harry to – oh, bloody hell!" Hermione threw up her hands in frustration.

Ron, at her exclamation, shivered a little. A little smile lifted one side of his mouth. "Say that again," he murmured.

"Oh, for magic's – not now, Ron!" She turned to Harry. "_Do_ you know how to undo the Charm?"

"I don't…what do you mean?"

"Then get out!" Hermione snapped.

"Wait!" Ron cried. He grabbed Harry's arm before he could leave. "Hermione, show him."

"I will not!"

"We need his help!"

"How can he possibly-"

"How did he defeat the dementors? How did he win the Tri-wizard tournament? How did he survive an attack by a rabid vampire? I don't know how he does what he does!"

Hermione closed her eyes while her inner debate raged. "Close the door, Harry." Once they were locked in, Hermione lifted one side of her dressing gown to her waist. Bare knee, bare thigh…

"Er -" Harry raised his hand to stop her until he saw the leather knickers and brass rivets. "What the hell?" He met Hermione's eyes. She was frightened.

"It won't come off," she whimpered.

"What do you mean?"

She gave frustrated growl. "I mean it doesn't come off! There's no opening! It's too tight, and the leather's too thick to cut with a Severing Spell unless want to I take my legs off, too!"

"How's she going to use the loo?" Ron asked sheepishly.

"The loo?" Hermione wailed. "I can't even sit down! There's no give! You've cursed me!"

There was a knock at the door. "Hey, in there. Everything OK, eh?" Ez's not terribly concerned voice filtered through the wood and glass. "Did someone scream? Hermione, open the door."

Ron lifted his wand to open the door, and Hermione grabbed his wrist to stop him. They argued silently for a moment.

"Ez might be able to help," Harry said. "More than me, anyway."

Leaning closer, Ron whispered, "Come on, Hermione, you can't stay this way forever."

"Forever! Don't be ridiculous! We'll think of something, won't we? Harry?"

Harry hadn't a clue as to how to get her out of that contraption.

"Hermione," Ron pressed. "It's Ez. She already knows."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, and let his wrist go. When the door flew open Ez stood with her arms crossed over Charlie's miss-buttoned shirt, and a hand pressed to her temple. "Look, even with the Diversion Jinx Magda gave us, the Muggles are going to notice screaming. They noticed Harry's little episode, didn't they? So what is it? Why all the Screaming? You're killing me, you realize that, don't you?"

Eyes down, and face distraught, Hermione lifted the edges of her dressing gown again to give Ez a view of the problem.

"What? Is that…?" Ez began to laugh. "So that's what you meant. Ha! You Weasleys…you used the Charm, didn't you?"

Charlie poked his head in, already smiling. He must've felt Ez's mirth. "So, what is it?"

"Your brother's conjured a chastity belt!"

"A what?" Hermione cried. "Ron!"

"No!" Ron insisted. "It was the Charm!"

Charlie whooped. "The Charm? I told you it doesn't work the way you think it's going to! When I cast it on Mere, she grew a-"

Ez whipped her wand at him, and his tongue locked to the roof of his mouth with a strangled, "Gwufph."

"But…we didn't have any Potion," Ron whined. "What were we supposed to do?"

"You don't have any Potion?" Harry echoed.

"Have you seen any cauldrons bubbling away?" Hermione snapped at him. "We haven't had any Potion since we left the Burrow!"

Ez rolled her eyes. "It's called 'oral sex,' Ron. And I know you know what I'm talking about."

Ron went beet red. "I just…we…that is…"

"Stop laughing, Charlie." Hermione tightened the dressing gown's belt. Harry had to fight to fight not to join Charlie in the moment's absurdity. Ez didn't bother trying to keep a straight face.

"Can you help?" Harry asked, as Ron was at a loss, and Hermione was beginning to tear up. He knew from their point of view the situation wasn't quite the laugh it was from his.

"There's nothing to be done," Ez said.

Hermione face dropped. "What?"

"Look," said Charlie, pulling himself together. His face was every bit as red as his brother's. "It's only a three hour spell. It's not like you'd have to stay that way forever."

"Three hours!" Hermione cried. "But…but…" She looked helplessly down at herself. "Three hours?"

"I'm sure Ron can come up with something to do in those three hours to make it up to you," Ez teased. "To make it all worth your while."

"Don't even think it!" Hermione snapped as Ron's previously crest-fallen expression became one of anticipation. "You're not touching me!"

"Oh, don't be too hard on him," Ez schooled. "It could've been much worse. The Charm could've transported Ron to Siberia, or locked you in a metal cage, or made you both impotent; really, any number of things to insure no conception. With this, at least, you can still have a good snog."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed with a chuckle. "A good snog, and really, three hours will fly by."

Harry glanced at them. They sounded as if she was speaking from experience. "Charlie said you grew a what?"

"Never you mind," Ez snapped.

Again a smirk screwed up Charlie face, and when he opened his mouth she jinxed him again.

"Did it change you into a bloke?" Ron ventured, with a little more excitement that Harry would've expected. When Ez didn't respond, Harry knew Ron had guessed correctly. With a smirk that threatened more, Ron glanced at his brother. "Really? Completely? Or did she just grow a-"

"Don't you say a word!" Ez warned with a threatening move of her wand. Charlie closed his mouth and obeyed.

"Ugh," Hermione said. "That must've been awful."

Charlie raised his brows. Perhaps not all that awful. Harry shuddered - Ez as a bloke. It wasn't such a stretch really, she wasn't the girliest of witches to begin with. But had they gone ahead, then? With her…changed? Charlie's expression was disconcerting.

"All right. Enough of this shit. Harry, you bunk with us tonight."

"Oi!" Charlie protested.

"Yes, yes, you've already had your fun."

"But you-"

"We're Bonded, you ape. You come, I come."

"But we always-"

"I'm not in the mood anymore," Ez practically growled. The look she gave him would've withered a hippogriff.

Charlie froze, probably contemplating just how much trouble he was in. "Right, then. Harry, you're in with us." And then he quietly added as they were leaving the compartment, "Please, whatever you do, don't leave me alone with her."

* * *

Harry was startled out of a dreamless sleep, and held his wand out as he groped for his glasses. He was shoving them on his face, listening to the sounds of Charlie and Ez each struggling to come awake and arm themselves, when the loud thud on the roof of the car came again. It hadn't been a dream. Someone was up there. In the dark, the window shattering and the dark mass of robes and glass flying in at them shot Harry's heart into his throat, and he shouted, "_Expelliarmus!_" before he even know what he was firing at. Or who.

The figure was thrown back against the side of the train by the sheer power behind the spell, but Harry only heard a muffled, "Huh," and not the reassuring sound of a wand clattering to the train's floor.

"_Lumos!_" Charlie called, and a ball of light flew from the tip of his wand. Ez cast a Binding Jinx , and then Harry realized it was Claudau who had flown through their window. He looked as if he'd seen a fight.

"Bloody hell," Charlie gasped. "Mere, release him." The rush of air pouring in from the broken window whipped the vampire's hair, obscuring much of his face, but not the deep, ragged gashes on his neck, arms and chest. He looked shredded, and had he a beating heart in his chest, Harry was sure he would've been covered in blood.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Ez demanded. "Are you following us?"

"Mere!" Charlie barked. He turned to Claudau. "What's happened? Who did this?"

He looked up into Charlie's eyes with such sadness that, for a moment, Harry let his wand drop. "You already know, my friend. Why must you ask difficult questions?"

Charlie set his jaw. Without looking up, he aimed his wand and called, "_Repairo!_" The broken glass flew back together and seamlessly sealed itself.

"Mere, lower your wand. Let him go."

"If he's followed us, then so have they!"

Charlie's glare pinned her, and Harry felt her jump beside him. "Fine," she snapped. Claudau slumped to the floor. "But don't try anything, blood sucker, or I'll…" She didn't finish the sentence, but she did shift her glare to Charlie once more.

"What happened?" Charlie asked Claudau, his voice lower now, and gentle.

The vampire opened his eyes and stared past Charlie, unseeing. "I have been forsaken."

"Because you got us out of the spire."

"Because I helped the blood traitors escape," he said miserably. He met Charlie's eyes. "I am you."

"I told you you wouldn't like it."

His red eyes looked dark as he gazed at Charlie's white, scarred neck, and then his mouth. "And I told you I'd give the world for you. And now I have." His laugh was mirthless. "Charliz…" Claudau shook his head, and the gashes on the vampire's face and neck looked even deeper. "Charliz… Imoroaică… the _Drăculeşti_…they know you fled. They know…" He gestured at Ez, and her hand went protectively to her middle. "The _Drăculeşti_, he will not let you live this time. Even your father is crying for your death."

"They can try," Charlie said, sincere in his bravado. "They haven't managed it yet."

The vampire closed his eyes. "They do not know where you are, so they will attack your family. They will start with the youngest, the weakest, the least protected. They are now, as we speak, hunting your sister-"

"_What?_" Harry's heart lurched in his chest. "_Ginny!_"

"Did he send you here to threaten us?" Ez demanded. Her wand was still aimed at the vampire.

"Oh, no, fierce but foolish Ézmâreldi, he did not - Charliz, can you not call off your dog?"

"I'll show you dog!" Ez flipped her wrist and bees flew out from the tip of her wand.

Charlie was able to counter the curse with a wave of his wand. "_Mere! Stop! What the blood hell's wrong with you?_"

"Wrong with me? He's come for you, Charlie! You know it, too! I see it in your head, so don't deny it! And yeah, I know what happened between the two of you-"

"Mere, it's not-"

"Oh, it is! It's exactly what I think it is, so don't lie to me!"

"_Who bloody cares?_" Harry shrieked. "We have to save Ginny!" He bolted from the room and pounded on the next door over. "Ron! Hermione! Open up! Ron!"

A sleepy head poked out as the door cracked open. "What is it, mate?"

"Hogwarts, quick! Ginny is in danger! They're going after her!"

"Who?" This came from an unseen, half-awake Hermione behind him.

"Lazar! That vampire thing! They're going after Ginny! We have to get to Hogwarts!"

Ron spun around, and rushed for his trousers. The door swung open, and Hermione was naked grabbing for clothes. Harry turned. "I can't wait. Meet me at Hogwarts." Before Hermione could get her full protest out, Harry felt the squeezing of Disapparation.

It was a couple of moments of disorientation before Harry realized that he'd managed to Apparate beside Honeydukes. Even in winter the smell of sugar was thick and reassuring in the air. It was dark and cold, and Harry kicked a trail through the snow to the front door. Three tries to unlock he door got him no where, and unwilling to spend any more time being polite, Harry dug his heel into the ground and slammed the door with a Severing Jinx. It exploded.

Magical alarms wailed, "Intruder!" as Harry jumped over the debris and into the back room. Down the stairs he threw open the trap door with a flick of his wand, and then cast "_Lumos._" The tunnel was just as he remembered. He ran.

Once the door on the Hogwarts' end came into sight, a web of magic flew at him. It wrapped around him as tight as ropes. Harry tried to cut himself free, but the netting cancelled out all the hexes and jinxes that he could think up.

"Throw down your wand!" An Auror stood in the door, wand aimed. "I said throw it down!"

"Proudfoot! It's me! It's Harry Potter!"

"Throw your wand down!" the Auror ordered again.

"We don't have time for-"

"I said throw it down, or I'll hex you and take it by force!"

With a frustrated huff Harry dropped his wand. Proud foot approached him carefully. "Hurry," Harry barked. "Check my wand. It's me!"

Proudfoot, with his long dark hair pulled back in a plait, bent over and retrieved Harry's wand, and scanned it with his own.

"The castle is about to be under attack," Harry quickly told him. "Ginny Weasley is the target!"

Proudfoot eyed Harry, and then released him from the magical web. "Who?"

"There isn't time! I need my wand!"

Proudfoot handed it over as he asked, "Why are you sneaking in through this-?"

"Because we don't have any bloody time! I need to get to Ginny fast, and your checkpoints take too long!" He pushed past Proudfoot, who continued to protest.

"Wait a minute, now Potter-"

"Raise the alarm!" Harry ordered over his shoulder. "And tell Tonks that it's Wizmere. With any luck she'll know what to do."

"Tonks? You mean Professor Tonks?"

"Whatever! She's spent some time in Romania! Don't argue! Just do it! And Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger will be here soon! Get them through as fast as you can! We'll need them!"

Harry sprinted up the stairs, and then down the corridors to Gryffindor Tower. At that time of night, with any luck, Ginny would be asleep in the Head Girl's room. And if not, he'd wake the whole bloody castle to find her. At least the attack hadn't come yet. He'd made it in time. Hadn't he? Surely they wouldn't have been able to sneak in, grab Ginny, and get out again without the Aurors knowing. Surely…

"That's not the password," said the Fat Lady, apologetically.

"You can't be serious!" Harry shouted. "Please, you've got to let me in!"

"No, no, none of that! You know perfectly well that no one passes through without the password!" She seemed very proud to be protecting her post so well.

"Of course I do! And you know perfectly well that I'm Harry Potter, and I'm a Gryffindor!"

"Rules are rules!"

"But I'm here on a rescue mission! Ginny Weasley is going to be kidnapped if I don't reach her in time!"

"Oh, no! Not Ginny Weasley!" the Fat Lady feigned distress. "Take it up with the Headmistress!"

"Bloody hell!" Harry spun around in frustration, and then stormed down the stairs just as McGonagall, in her plaid flannel nightgown, was hurrying up with Proudfoot and another Auror flanking her. "What's the new password?"

"Punctilious!"

Harry bolted back up to the Fat Lady. "Punctilious!"

"Nice to have you back, young master Potter!" The portrait swung open.

Harry didn't wait for the others to catch up. He dashed up the dormitory stairs, and then took the Head Girl's stair. He threw the door open, and waved his wand at the lamps that burst into flames with a roar. Ginny sat up in bed, terrified. She grabbed for her wand.

"It's me!" Harry called out before she could hex him. "Gin! It's me!"

She froze. And then her face melted into a watery smile. "Harry – Merlin, Harry, I thought for a moment that you were-"

He dove for her, and she held out her arms to collect him. He kissed her mouth, her neck, and held her so close she squeaked. "You're squeezing."

He mumbled an apology, pressed his forehead to her shoulder. "I love you."

"Harry, what is it? What's happened? Where's Ron? Harry?" She pulled away from him. "Harry, where's Ron and Hermione?"

"They're all right," he assured. "They're coming. But I couldn't wait. We're going to be attacked. It's a long story, but you're not safe. Get dressed."

"Mister Potter!" Professor McGonagall stood in the door, aghast at the tableau she'd walked in on. "Get out of that bed at once!"

Ginny was already climbing toward her trunk. Harry hurried out the door to let Ginny put her clothes on.

"Did you talk to Tonks?" Harry asked Padfoot out on the landing.

The Auror nodded. "She said she'd take care of everything, and to stay with the Headmistress. What's going on, Potter? What are we in for? Who's attacking? You said Wizmere."

Professor McGonagall's eyes went wide. "But surely you don't mean Professor Wizmere!"

Before Harry could respond the door opened, and Ginny stood there, face puffy from sleep and hair tangled, in a jumper and jeans. Merlin, he'd missed her. Her smile was radiant. "You're with me," he told her. "Whatever happens, don't leave my side."

Her eyes lit up as if he'd given her a present.

"Hogwarts is perfectly safe," McGonagall assured. "No one can possibly get in without-"

"I did," Harry said quickly. "And Lazarius Wizmere won't worry about a handful of Aurors."

"Lazarius – Mr. Potter, you don't mean to tell me that this castle is about to be attacked by Lazar Wizmere."

"That's exactly what I mean to tell you!"

"Impossible!" Padfoot insisted. "He's been dead for thirty years!"

"Who told you that? The Ministry? The same Ministry who denied Voldemort's return?"

Padfoot flinched. Professor McGonagall did too, a bit.

"Harry, what do we do? How will they attack?" Ginny's face was alight with excitement. He wished she wasn't enjoying this quite so much. "We should call the DA."

"What? No! Ginny, this is real!"

"I know that! But, Harry, we're good. We're really good. It's not like it was when we went to the Department of Mysteries. Now we really know what we're doing. Tonks is an amazing teacher!"

"Enough of that," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Students will not fight in an attack on this school!" She gave Harry a hard look. "Lazarius Wizmere?"

"He's Ez's-"

"I know who he is, Potter. You're certain he's alive? That's he going to attack this school?"

He glanced at Ginny. "I'm certain." He wouldn't say more in front of her. He didn't want Ginny to carry the burden of an attack on the school. "Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger should be here any moment. They'll tell you Wizmere's alive."

"I need to contact the Ministry," Padfoot said, and he scurried away, leaving only the one Auror with Professor McGonagall. She eyed him, clearly irritated that he hadn't run off with his friend. Not that it would matter. The Ministry was compromised, and Padfoot's report wouldn't make a bit of difference. Harry knew help from that direction would not come in time. "Where's Tonks?" he said almost to himself as he grabbed Ginny's arm. "Come on."

Her hand slipped into his as they ran down the stairs. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. Ron and Hermione should be here – we need them. Ron will come up with a strategy, and Hermione can help organize." The common room was starting to fill with bleary-eyed students. Harry and Ginny sprinted through, and then down the stairs outside. They met Tonks, Lupin, and several Aurors on the Grand Stair.

"Wotcher, Harry."

"Harry! What's going on?" Lupin was in a tattered dressing gown over pajamas, and Tonks wore her robes. "Where the devil did you come from?"

"It's Wizmere?" Tonks asked, and when Harry nodded she shoved his shoulder. "Get away! In Scotland? No way. Where's Ez?"

"Not here. She can't Disapparate, you know, and I had to get here as soon as I could."

"Charlie's still with her, then?"

"Yeah. Of course."

Tonks looked relieved. "Thank bloody Merlin for that!" She turned to Lupin. "I have to go. They're going to need me."

"No, we'll respond as if the attack on Hogwarts is genuine," Lupin counseled.

"Of course it's genuine!" Harry insisted.

"The Wizmere's won't come here," Tonks said. "Charlie and Ez are going to need backup."

"Obviously they believed that Hogwarts was in trouble, if they sent Harry here." Both Lupin and Tonks looked expectantly at Harry.

"Well, er…not really, no, they didn't exactly send me. But Claudau said-"

"Claudau! Claudau? The vampire? Bloody hell, Harry! He's one of them!"

"No, he rescued Charlie and Ez from the spire–"

"He's a vampire!"

"He's a friend of Charlie's," Harry said, but Tonks wasn't buying it. "You think the attack on Ginny was a decoy? To get Ez and Charlie alone?"

"On Ginny?" Lupin gasped.

Tonks threw up her hands. "It worked, didn't it? Use your loaf, Harry! How would any wizard, even one as powerful as Lazar Wizmere take on the entire Hogwarts castle without the rest of the world finding out?"

"Well…he has friends," Harry said, not even believing his explanation as he said it. "Merlin, you're right. We've got to get back to them."

"No," Lupin said with finality. "Harry, you need to stay put. Tonks is right. It's safe here, even if there's an attack coming." Harry wasn't certain about that – but he wasn't so sure about any of it anymore. Had he left Charlie and Ez undefended? Wasn't that why Charlie had asked him to travel with him in the first place?

"I have to go," Tonks said to Lupin, desperation in her eyes.

"No," Lupin whispered, and Harry knew then that Lupin wouldn't be able to keep her.

"He's my Secret Keeper. I have to go. I gave an oath-"

"We all gave an oath," Lupin told her.

She searched his eyes. "It's Charlie. I have to help."

"What if you can't?"

"I have to try."

Lupin grabbed her by the arms and kissed her passionately. She whimpered, and opened her mouth to him. Harry turned away just as Ernie came bounding down the stairs.

"Harry!" he called, with Luna behind him. "They say we're under attack! How can we help?"

Ginny tugged Harry's arm. "See? We want to help!"

"You can get back to your House, is what you can do!" Tonks barked. She turned back to Lupin. "I'll send word as soon as I can."

"I'll come with you," he said.

"Don't do this. Stay with Harry. If I'm wrong-"

"Please be wrong," he implored.

"I'll send word," she promised one last time, and then hurried away.

"Where's she going?" Ernie asked.

"Never mind," Lupin said, still distracted by the now empty corridor she'd run down. "Get back to your common rooms."

"But, we want to help," Luna said happily.

"No. Not this time," Lupin told her. "If Harry's right, this attack will be terrifically dangerous. This wizard, he's not a normal Death Eater."

"Yeah, well, we're not exactly normal students, are we?" Ginny said with a cocky smirk. Harry had never loved her so much as in that moment.

"Harry!" The familiar voice flooded him with relief. Harry turned to see Hermione and Ron running down the corridor toward him, followed by three Aurors Harry recognized from the night Charlie had been brought in hurt. They should've been the outside defense, which meant-

"Who's guarding the gate?" Harry demanded.

Professor McGonagall caught up to them. She was a little out of breath, and there was color in her thin cheeks. "All right, back to your common rooms, the lot of you. And no complaints, Miss Granger. I won't stand for it. If this school is going to be under attack I will have my students safely tucked away."

"But if we can help-" Harry began.

"Then I will fetch you," the Headmistress said. "Until that time, I want you in your Tower. And you, Miss Lovegood, back in Ravenclaw – oh, and Mr. Macmillian. Mr. Lupin, you would be so good as to collect Professor Tonks? And the rest of you…"

"She's gone." The devastation in those two words didn't just stop Professor McGonagall in her tracks. It froze them all.

"Professor?" McGonagall questioned, a new tenderness in her voice.

Lupin met her gaze. "Tonks. She went to help Charlie. She believed the threat on Hogwarts was a diversion, and Charlie and Ez are the real target."

McGonagall turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter?" she asked expectantly.

"I…" He swallowed. He'd made a terrible mistake. "The attack wasn't going to be on Hogwarts. It was Ginny who was in danger, not the school."

"Me?" Ginny gasped.

"There isn't time to explain now, but…I've got to get back to the train. I think maybe Tonks is right."

"And, if she's wrong?" McGonagall pressed.

"Then tell them when they arrive that Ginny Weasley is no longer at Hogwarts."

"And if they do not believe me?"

Harry shook his head. "Then brace for Dark wizards and vampires. And don't expect rescue from the Ministry. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Vampires?" Ernie anxiously repeated.

Harry grabbed Ginny's hand, and started down the steps. Ron and Hermione followed close behind.

"Professor Lupin!" McGonagall called.

"I'm sorry, Headmistress," he said, on Harry's heels. "I'm sorry…I have to go."

From the school gates, winded from running, the five of them Disapparated - Ron first, and then Ginny with Harry, and Lupin with Hermione. It took a moment for Harry to get his bearings once they Apparated back in the train. It wasn't what he'd expected. The car was dark, and at an odd angle. It wasn't moving. Acrid smoke thickened the cold, wet air. It wasn't a broken window this time, but half of the wall in the compartment was gone. Harry heard Hermione and Ron running through the car, checking other compartments, looking for survivors.

Lupin walked forward and touched the charred edge of the hole. "They've already come and gone."

Ginny touched Harry's shoulder. "If there are no bodies they might have gotten away."

"The Muggles are dead," Ron reported. His voice and expression was grim. Hermione's eyes were full of tears, but she didn't let them fall.

"He got them," Lupin said staring out at the night. The countryside was dark, still.

"The Muggle authorities will be here soon to investigate," Hermione reminded them. "We can't stay."

Harry looked around, hoping for some sign that Charlie and Ez and Tonks had made it out; that they were on foot…or anything.

Ron pulled their luggage down from the rack near the door. "They may want it later," he said quietly.

There was nothing to do but go back to Hogwarts.


	29. Chapter 28 Hogwarts

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 28 – Hogwarts

It was a solemn journey back to the castle, and the walk through the grounds seemed to take an eternity. Harry waited by the window in his dorm room half-hoping for an attack that never came, while Ginny slept in his bed, curtains secretly drawn, which left Ron and Hermione alone in the Head Girl's room. Ron's grateful smile reminded Harry how lucky he was to have Ron as a best mate. There had been moments over the course of the year when it didn't look like their friendship would survive.

It was a cold night. While he was bundled in a blanket, knees pulled up to his chest so he'd fit in the window, Harry watched the still, dark grounds below. Every hour that passed listening to the soft snores of his friends while he sat sentinel pushed Harry deeper and deeper into grief. The threat on Ginny had been a lie that he'd fallen for. Charlie and Ez and Tonks weren't coming back, sacrificed to his own impetuous naivety and self-indulgent jumps to action. It was Sirius all over again.

When the sun finally came up, Ginny forced Harry down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He couldn't even touch his toast.

Hermione and Ron dressed in their school robes, and Ron's only response to Harry's surprised expression was a stern look daring him to comment. Harry didn't. After kippers and beans, they actually went to class. Harry watched them go. Everyone around him was talking and fluttering about as if nothing had happened – as if the school wasn't short three professors. Harry touched his shoulder to remind himself that it wasn't just a bad dream. Stiff pain from sitting against stone all night and his healing wound grounded him.

He walked out into the courtyard, knowing the Aurors out there wouldn't let him stay, but wanting the freezing air in his lung for a moment. Hogwarts was starting to feel like a prison again.

Lupin sat hunched over on a bench, and the Auror on guard didn't say anything as Harry made his way over to him. Lupin didn't look up, and didn't offer for Harry to join him.

"She's with Charlie and Ez."

"One way or the other, eh?" Lupin's voice was hoarse. He had his hands clasped, elbows on knees, and Harry thought he looked like he might be praying. "Why didn't I go with her?"

Harry sat down beside him, and hunched over his legs as well. The wind was biting. "What can the Order do?"

"Professor McGonagall contacted Kingsley last night. He said that the Muggle government has announced a fatal train derailment in France, and they're saying it's terrorists. Funny enough, several Muggle factions have already come forward to claim responsibility."

"But-"

"We don't know where they are. Captured or not, alive or not, we don't have any place to begin. It smacks of Wizmere, but our wizards in that part of the world are quiet. No one's talking. I think I'm going to go out of my mind."

"I've been up all night thinking. If they were dead, then we would've found bodies. Lazarius would've made a point of leaving them behind."

"You don't know anything about Lazar Wizmere if you think that comforts me. Death is preferable to capture."

Harry glanced at the man beside him. "If they're alive, then there is hope. Then there is something we can do."

"Why didn't I go with her?" He cradled his head in his hands.

They sat for a while longer, not speaking, until the cold finally wormed its way inside Harry's robes. "Come on," he said gently. "Let's get some tea."

"Tea?"

"We'll find something."

Harry took him up to Tonks' apartment. It probably wasn't the best possible place, but it was quiet and private. There was wine in a decanter on a small table by the window. Harry poured his friend a glass. Lupin stood by the fireplace, leaning against the mantel. Harry lit a fire for him, and handed him the drink. He barely acknowledged it. Harry took a seat on the couch to give Lupin the time he needed.

"Talk to me of something else," he said quietly.

"Can I ask you questions about my parent?"

"Anything."

Harry understood his need for distraction. "There is something that's been bothering me. Why was Peter Pettigrew my parents' Secret Keeper?"

Lupin met his gaze, and then looked away. "Sirius was your godfather. You suppose that he would've been the logical choice."

"Exactly."

Lupin pursed his lips. He took a seat in the chair and drained the entire glass. Then, with a swish of his wand, he filled it again. The wine level in the decanter dropped. "Harry, you don't need to worry -"

"But I do. I'm not a child anymore, and I don't want protecting. If you're not up to talking, that's all right-"

"No, it's not that."

"Then, why wasn't Sirius - or even you - my parents' Secret Keeper? Who chose Wormtail?"

Lupin shook his head. He stared into the fire. "But it couldn't be me, now could it? No, I was out of my mind at every full moon…and weak. No, it had to be someone whole."

"And Sirius -"

"Was with me." His voice was thick with guilt. "He was with me."

"What does that mean?"

Lupin raised his brows and gave Harry a knowing look. "Sirius was _with me_."

"Well…yes, you've already said that the two of you were-"

"James didn't know. We hid it from him. Quite well, as it turned out, though I think there was a part of him that was purposely obtuse. He often only saw what he wanted to see." Lupin sighed. "But, well, when you walk in on your best friends buggering each other, it's hard to deny it, I suppose."

"Why do you say it like that?" Harry asked. "You make it sound vulgar. You loved him, didn't you?"

Lupin didn't answer right away, but looked back into the fire. The log was going grey around the edges. His eyes watered. "It makes it easier, not to dwell on the romantic." Then, Lupin sighed again.

Harry cleared his throat. "So, why Wormtail, then? Why not Dumbledore? Or…anyone else?"

"There was no one else. Not that we trusted."

"But Wormtail?"

"That's a hard question to answer in retrospect. Hindsight is so very clear, isn't it? Even now. Why didn't I go with her?"

"We all should've gone," Harry said quietly.

Lupin rubbed his eyes with one hand. "With James and Sirius, Harry, you must understand that things became very complicated very fast. Once James knew our secret, there were…words. Things were said that neither of them really meant. Sirius was furious that James reacted just as poorly as he'd expected, and James…I believe there was a small part of him that was crushed. He knew, then, that there would always be a bit of Sirius that I had, and he couldn't touch. It was complicated. But, Peter was there for James and Lily, and nothing was ever complicated with Peter. He was an easy boy to like. He was quiet, and good for a laugh, and willing to do anything for a friend…or, at least, that's what we all thought. I made some terrible misjudgments in character back then. Mistakes I will always regret."

Harry couldn't even begin to imagine Ron or Hermione turning on him like that. Or Neville. Or Luna. "So, you never saw it coming, then? With Pettigrew? You never suspected?"

"Perhaps I too only saw what I wanted." Lupin sipped. "But, no. I would've sworn on my life that Wormtail was one of us."

Harry nodded. "Of course you didn't suspect. You'd been friends forever, hadn't you? But why would he? Why would he do it?"

"Ah, yes. Well, that I can't explain." Lupin filled his glass for a third time. "When I thought it was Sirius, I spent years of my life trying to understand what would've driven him to You-Know-Who. I almost had myself convinced it was his family. Almost. I never really could wrap my mind around it. But with Peter, there was no powerful family steeped in the Dark Arts. Peter's family was mostly Hufflepuffs. His mother was a half-blood, and his sister married a Muggle. The whole time I knew him, never once did I wonder about his leanings. We talked about defeating the Death Eaters all the time, and he always seemed just as eager as the rest of us to do our part to help the common good. He joined the Order the same night Lily and I did."

"Wait. You didn't all join together?"

"Er…no. Odd really. It was…well, it was a bit like when Charlie Weasley became the new Secret Keeper. We were all supposed to give our oaths, but when we arrived Dumbledore asked us to consider everything first - to take some time. I thought at the time it was because we were younger than everyone else, and he wanted us to grow up a bit before…but, well, perhaps he saw something in us. Perhaps he knew Peter was already lost. He didn't have the Dark Mark at that point, I can tell you, but it wasn't much after that, no more than a year or so, before you were born, and then…well…"

"But my dad joined?"

"Oh, no. He was already Order. So was Sirius. And the Longbottoms, though they were a couple of years older than us."

"When did my dad join the Order, then?"

Lupin stared at him for a moment. "I'd have thought Sirius would've shared that story with you. He was so very fond of telling it."

Apparently, there was a lot that Sirius had never shared.

"We were seventh year, a week before we were to take our N.E.W.T.s. I had five to study for, and Sirius only three. He was bored out of his mind. Sirius was never one to study – he was one of those to whom fact collecting and regurgitation seemed coded into his very fabric. Anyway, with me distracted, Sirius convinced James to sneak out of Gryffindor Tower with him, saying that he wanted to call on the Hufflepuff girl he was supposed to fancy. Cleo something. I think she later married a Muggle. At any rate, James collected his Invisibility Cloak, and they set off.

"They weren't five steps out the portrait hole when the alarm was raised. A pair of redcaps had somehow made their way past the school's defenses and were running amuck in the dungeons. Hagrid took the blame for that, as I recall, though none of us at the time believed it could've been him. For starters, redcaps are hardly in the same league as the creatures that usually caught his eye-"

"The Order?" Harry said, pulling him back on track.

"Yes, yes." Lupin set his glass on the floor and settled back into the chair. He laced his hands together and steepled his fingers before touching them thoughtfully to his mouth. He considered Harry. "You know, of course, that your father and Sirius did not return to the Tower. No, the two of them hurried down to get in on the action. And who do you think was skulking around down there, as well? Who else was out past curfew? Severus."

"Snape! So it was Snape who snuck the redcaps in?"

"Well, James later accused him of that very thing, but I wasn't so sure. If it had been him, then why stick around and help to capture them? Why not run?"

"Snape helped?"

"Well, to hear Sirius afterwards, Snape flitted around a bit, shooting off sparks. But yes, I believe Snape helped. Mind you, I don't know why. At that point James and Lily had finally become a couple – if you catch my meaning – and it was no secret that Severus had soft feelings for Lily. She tried to deny it away, but you can't hide that sort of love. Friends simply don't pine for friends that way. Or for that long."

Snape had pined for his mother? Harry cleared his throat. "The redcaps, then?"

"Quite. So, with Severus' aid, the three of them managed to capture the rogue redcaps, and cage them for Hagrid to deal with before any of the professors even arrived. Dumbledore called all three boys to his office. They were there until morning, as I recall, and Lily and Peter and I didn't know what had happened to them. All the portraits could tell us was that Dumbledore had everything under control. Your mother was out of her mind with worry. If they were to be expelled, James would never become an Auror."

"My father wanted to become an Auror?"

Lupin shrugged. "He wanted to be in the middle of the fight."

"What about my mum? Did she want to be an Auror, too?"

"You know, I don't recall her ever saying. She would've made a fine one, though. She was quick as a whip with charms and jinxes. Ginny reminds me some of her in that way. But Lily…she was more like Hermione Granger in temperament. Do you find Hermione easy to talk to?"

It was an odd question, and one that caught Harry off guard. "Er…yeah. I do, I reckon. She's my best mate."

"You can talk to her about anything?"

"Yeah."

Lupin nodded. "Lily was the same way for me. Well, everything except Sirius. We didn't talk about him. I didn't want to put her into a position where she'd have to lie to James."

Like Harry had done, forcing Hermione to keep his Ginny secret. He glared down at his knees, still angry at himself over that.

"I'm not sure that others found her as easy to talk to as I did. She was a kind, understanding sort of girl. And smart. And, well, lovely. It's not difficult, really, to believe that Severus was so taken with her. I reckon many boys were."

"So, when did my dad join the Order?"

"That night. He and Sirius came back tight-lipped, giving only the vaguest of details about the redcaps and Snape – which was quite unlike them - and that Dumbledore had required their aid. Lily wasn't happy about that, as you might imagine. She railed against James for keeping secrets from her, and how dare he not trust her."

"Did you rail against Sirius, too?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"It wasn't in my nature to rail. At least not in my human form. But later that week, down by the lake and in a fit of ecstasy, Sirius told me about the Order and that he and James had joined. He didn't tell me much, mind you. Only what he thought he could. But it was enough to pique my interest. I think he thought that I would join eventually if for no other reason than he had joined. I would've joined anyway, though. The Death Eaters were already killing off those with my affliction. And, as much as I hated what had been done to me, I wasn't prepared to lose my life. Not when I had such wonderful friends. My friends kept me going. Not when I had Sirius..." He closed his eyes for a moment, as if that thought had caused some inner pain. "And now my Nymphadora..."

"If Lazarius has them-"

"No heroics, Harry. If there is something to be done Kingsley will tell us tonight at the meeting. I will go, of course, but you must stay here."

"But, I know the castle! I know how to get into the dungeons!"

"This is not your fight."

"Like hell it's not!"

"It's not," Lupin said with finality. "You're not Order, and this isn't Voldemort. You will stay here. I will have your word."

"But I can help-"

"And what of Ron Weasley? What of Hermione Granger? I will have your word, Harry, that you will not drag your friends into this. There is too much at risk. The wizarding world will go on if something happens to a tired, old beast like me. You cannot say the same."

Harry wanted to deny it, but he was afraid what Lupin was saying was true. "But, you saw Ez when she made it back here after her escape last time - and after what her cousin did to her. How can I stay here when Charlie-"

"I will have your word, Harry." Lupin's expression went dark again, and he turned from Harry to stare into the flames. "He's not your Secret Keeper. He's mine. I should've gone with her. Now, give me your word."

"But-"

"_Your word!_"

"You have it."

* * *

Neville was in the dorm room that night when Harry went in after his shower. Harry gave him a nod hello, and then threw open his trunk. Pajama bottoms and an old green t-shirt that may or may not have belonged to Dudley when he was in Primary school, and had been in Harry's trunk for seven years now. It finally fit across the chest. Almost.

"What happened to your shoulder?" Neville's question was shy and respectful. "Looks awful painful."

The scar was still bright pink, and puckered. "Vampire," Harry told him. "It's good."

"Yeah? Vampire? And your arm?"

Harry glanced down at the wound. His shoulder still caught a bit, but his arm didn't bother him at all. "It's not a big deal."

"No, not for you," Neville said with an appreciative smile. "You said the other night that it was Lazar Wizmere. The Lazar Wizmere. Is he back from the dead, then? Like V-voldemort?"

"No. He was never dead."

"The Ministry said he was dead."

Harry shrugged. He stepped into a fresh pair of pants.

"Is Professor Wizmere related to Lazar Wizmere? The Lazar Wizmere?"

"He's her grandfather."

"Oh." That didn't seem to sit well with Neville. "Is that why she didn't come back? Is she dark?"

"What? No! Ez is not a dark witch!"

"Oh. Well, good, then." He played with a book on his bed. "So, you call her Ez, then?"

That had been a slip of the tongue. Harry glanced at Neville, who seemed mildly curious, if apprehensive. "Well, she was at the Weasley's at Christmas. She's a friend of Charlie Weasley, you know? It seemed odd to call her Professor there. Either of them, really."

"Really? So, you're friends, then?"

"Well, yeah. I reckon."

"Close friends?"

Neville's questions seemed a little too pointed to Harry. "What are you on about?"

"Seamus said Ernie said you were taking Legilimency lessons from her. Are you certain she's not dark?"

"They were Occlumency lessons, and yeah, I'm sure."

"So, then…she is an Occlumens?"

"Yeah." Harry wasn't sure if he should be telling Neville all this, or not. "You're not going to spread it around, though, are you? I mean, she doesn't Read the students or anything. She tells you before she Reads you." Well, she had at the beginning, at least. Harry's head had sort of become an open door to her. He couldn't remember the last time she'd warned him ahead of time.

"And, you're sure she's not dark? How can you be sure?"

"I've been inside her head. I'm sure."

This stunned Neville into silence for a moment, and Harry finished dressing before tossing his dirty clothes into his trunk.

"So…then…you're a Legilimens, too?"

"No. No, it's part of learning Occlumency. Dumbledore wanted me to be able to shield my mind in case Voldemort, well, you know."

Neville gave a weak nod.

"Neville." Harry sat down on his bed and looked at his friend. "I'm not dark."

"I know that!"

"Does it scare you that I've been learning Occlumency? I need it to defend myself."

"No," Neville finally admitted. "But she scares me."

"She can be scary," Harry agreed. "But mostly she's…" Angry. Sad. Brave. Mental. Desperate. In love. "She's complicated. But she's a Gryffindor, through and through. If you ever find yourself in trouble, trust her."

"Yeah?"

"She's saved my life."

"She has?"

"Yeah."

Neville nodded to his shoulder. "With the vampire?"

"No, that I had to take care of on my own." Harry rubbed at the wound.

"They say garlic paste is supposed to be good for vampire wounds."

"Yeah, a vampire told me that, actually."

When Neville didn't say anything more, Harry went to find Ginny.

* * *

In the dark, under soft sheets and heavy blankets, Harry was momentarily disoriented. But then, the back of Ginny's head reassured him, and he let his eyes slip closed again. His body relaxed. Ginny. He reached out to touch her just to be sure she was really there. He ran his fingers along her bare spine. When she shivered, he slipped closer to her, and draped an arm over her. She pressed against him, her back to his chest, her bum cradled against his lap. Skin on skin. Warmth. Breath. Her hair smelled like shampoo and sex and Ginny. He kissed the back of her head. She sighed.

Ron and Hermione were in the next bed over, and Harry was too tired to drag Ginny to the Head Girls loo for some privacy (where his friends had disappeared for more than an hour earlier that night) so he pulled back a little to free his slowly swelling cock from her silky, round bum and resigned himself to placing one more lingering kiss on her bare shoulder. She ran a hand down his draped arm and laced her fingers with his, and then she pulled his hand up to cup her breast. His cock twitched again. She rolled on to her back and faced him, her expression lost in the darkness. She touched his jaw, ran her fingers over the itchy growth of beard on his cheek. He kissed her slowly, lips playing and caressing. Her tongue slipped along is bottom lip. He nipped at it.

She shifted again, slipped a leg over his. Her toes played with the back of his calf. Their kiss deepened. Soft panting came from the other side of the room - Harry tried to ignore it. He focused on the feel of Ginny's breast, the crease below it, the soft plain of her belly, and the little rounded mound surrounding her bellybutton. There had been no Quidditch this year, and she had softened. He loved it. She squirmed when he circled it, and suddenly he needed to lick her there.

Her protests were minimal as he slipped down her, kissing her neck, her shoulder, the soft flesh where her arm and breast met. He suckled at her breast, using a little teeth and tongue, memorizing the feel of her nipple as it went hard in his mouth. Her breast was solid, and he cupped the side to feel the weight of it. Merlin, he loved her breasts, but his goal was a little lower. She went still as he began to kiss his way down, sucking here and there. He gripped her thigh, her hip, her round ass. Merlin, he loved her ass.

He dipped his tongue in her navel, and she gasped. He hadn't expected that, and Harry glanced up. No protest came, though, so he slowly kissed her stomach again, loving the way her soft skin felt beneath his mouth. Her legs parted, knees bent, and Harry found himself kissing his way lower. She smelled incredible. He pushed the covers out of the way, and found her hip bone with his mouth. The inside of her thigh quivered as he ran two light fingers over it. Harry wished it wasn't so dark. He wanted to see her face. He wanted to see her breasts.

The thick stripe of hair between her legs was, as always, incredibly soft. He ran his fingers through it, knowing she'd liked that in the past. She was still slick from their previous love play. Hermione moaned. Harry closed his eyes against the surge in his cock. They needed their own room, their own privacy. He didn't want to think about Hermione now. All he wanted in his mind was Ginny.

Ginny's hand found the top of his head, and she scraped her nails over his scalp. One of her slim fingers ran along the back of his left ear. A shiver ran down his spine. He loved her so much his heart was full of it, and it pounded heavy in his chest. He wanted to squeeze her tight enough that she would feel it. He wanted to press into her mind to share the sensation with her.

He slipped a finger inside her, and her gasp tingled through his abdomen. His cock went painfully tight. He pressed himself against the mattress for the miniscule relief that small bit of friction gave him. Desire hummed through him, heated his blood. Harry opened her wide while his fingers were buried inside her to the knuckle, and he took his first taste of Ginny Weasley.

Rich. Thick. His tongue found that hard bit of flesh she always guided him to, and he sucked it between his teeth. Ginny's whole body arched up off the mattress, and she gave a keening cry as she tried to muffle a scream. She contracted around his finger. The other bed went silent.

Harry's heart pounded in his cock. The time for subtlety and discretion was over. He no longer cared that the others were in the room. If he didn't slip inside her now Harry thought he might die. He didn't even have to hold himself he was so hard, he just climbed over her and pushed in. Her hand found his hips, and she jammed him even closer. Stars burst behind his eyelids. Harry gave himself over to the quick rhythm of their bodies as he wrapped his lips around the side of her neck. He could feel her speeding pulse under his tongue, her body gripping around his erection, her breasts jiggling beneath his chest, her hands on his ass, her breath on his ear, her voice in his head crying, _Oh, Merlin, yes!_

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. As it was, he leapt from the bed with all the grace of a fish on land. He landed hard on his bum.

"Harry!"

"Sorry…" was all he could force from his mouth. His hot, wet cock protested the cold night air. His blood still boiled. His mind revolted. He'd slipped inside her head without meaning to. He'd lost himself to the passion of the moment. Was it too late? He was too terrified to grope around with his mind to find out.

"Harry? Are you all right?"

Still nothing came from the other side of the room. Ron must think him a loser in bed.

"Harry, what happened? Are you there? Harry?"

He didn't want to say it aloud knowing he had an audience. Ron would lose it if he knew what Harry had just accidentally done. Hermione might, too.

"Harry-"

"I'm good." He forced himself off the floor, his backside protesting, and climbed back into the bed. Ginny pulled the covers over the both of them, and settled in his arms. Her leg snaked back over his, her tongue found his ear.

"What happened?" she whispered.

"Am I…inside you?"

He heard her snort of amusement. "Honestly, Harry, if you can't tell-"

"Your head," he clarified, his voice barely there. "I heard your thoughts."

"Can you hear them now?"

"I'm…not sure."

"I don't hear you."

Harry closed his eyes, pressed his forehead to hers. "I lost control. I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry."

"Then we go slower. We're more careful."

She gripped him, and stroked. He covered her hand with his. "It's not a good idea."

"It's a brilliant idea," she whispered. "Slower. Easy. I want to feel you inside me, Harry."

"But you already-"

"And you didn't. Come inside me."

"They're listening."

"All the better…" She was smiling against his mouth as she kissed him again. So, Ginny was kinky. He never would've guessed from the way she'd reacted when she found out Harry had seen Hermione and Ron go at it. And then the image of Hermione on her back with Ron's head planted between her thighs crept in, and Harry pulled away.

"Not here."

Ginny didn't let go of his cock, though, and she stroked him a little harder. "Where then?"

"Shower…" he gasped.

"All the way to the washroom?" She teased his head. "Up against the wall? Is that how you want me? With my legs wrapped around you? Will you touch me here?" She placed his hand on her breast again. He had to squeeze.

When she let go of his wrist, she reached down and cupped him. Harry's eyes rolled back. "Oh…Merlin…fuck…"

"How tight do I feel when you're inside me? This tight? Or this?"

He whimpered, and pushed his forehead into the crook of her neck. She wasn't going to let him out of the bed, let alone all the way down to the Head Girl's loo. Harry wasn't even sure he'd make it that far. Pressure was building hard and fast and, as he began to pump into her hand, he could feel his body reaching for it. He couldn't help himself.

"Tell me you love me," she whispered in his ear.

"I love you."

"Tell me you need me."

"Always."

"Tell me you'll never leave me behind again."

"Anything…anything you want."

The pressure was there, and the crest was flying at him, and Harry pushed her hands out of the way in a fit of desperation. He shoved her shoulder back, and her legs opened for him. He slid home just as he shattered. "Gin…" escaped like a promise. His mind went blissfully blank as he floated in a sea of pleasure. Everything tingled. Everything smiled.

And then, from across the room, a muffled whisper. "Hermione? So…what are you thinking now?"

* * *

"You're going to class."

Ron cornered Harry in their dorm room the following morning, after the other boys had gone down to breakfast. He looked serious, and a little apprehensive. Was he expecting a fight?

"You need your uniform," Ron told him. "You're going to class."

"I don't even know which class-"

"Defense. Lupin." Ron was serious. "Look, we're here. You can't expect that Hermione-"

"You want me to go to class for Hermione?"

Ron glanced down at the bed and shrugged. "Well, yeah. If we're going to be here, she's going to want to take her N.E.W.T.s."

"Well, sure," Harry agreed. "It only makes sense."

"Right. Good, then. Get dressed." Ron seemed relieved. He dropped down on his bed and crossed his arms under his head.

Harry pulled his uniform from his trunk. "So, Hermione wanting to take her N.E.W.T.s explains why you're in that get-up, but why again am I going to class?"

"Because Hermione thinks it's disloyal for us to go to class without you."

"How do you reckon?"

"I don't know," Ron wailed, throwing up his arms. "She's a girl! She's got all these thoughts and all these feelings and she talks about them _ad nauseum_!"

"_Ad nauseum_?"

"Yeah, and she says things like that, too."

"What if we're not here to take our N.E.W.T.s? They're not until June." Harry pulled off his jumper and t-shirt and slipped on his button down.

"Where are we going to be, then?"

"I don't know. But it's not like we knew we were going to Romania before it happened, right? Or Godric's Hollow. Things just sorta come up."

"You mean like Charlie and Tonks and Ez? Are we going to rescue them?"

"I promised Lupin I wouldn't get involved…but…do you know where they are?"

Ron kicked the side of his shoe against the bed post. "Well, he's got them, doesn't he? That bloody evil wizard. In his castle? In the dungeon?"

"I don't know. Is that what you think?"

Ron shrugged. "I can't figure out why we're here. Going to class like nothing's happened, it's odd."

"You're the one making me dress-"

"I know," Ron said, as he sat up. "I know. And still, I keep thinking that Charlie's out there somewhere. And, he's my brother! Shouldn't I be trying to help him? Wouldn't he do the same for me? Where the hell is the Order when you need them?"

"There was supposed to be a meeting last night. Let's go ask Lupin, shall we?"

* * *

Only, when they arrived at Defense, there was a parchment nailed to the door announcing that day's classes had been cancelled. Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged worried glances, and then hurried up to the Headmistress' office.

"I can't discuss it with you, Mr. Potter," she said primly as she looked at him over the rim of her glasses.

"But, Lupin's gone. That must mean that they know something. He's gone to Romania, yes? Did Kingsley go with him? Who else?"

"Bill!" Ron guessed. "He went, as well, did he?"

"I'm terribly busy," McGonagall said. "I've posts to fill before the Ministry sends any more-"

"Percy Weasley is gone," Hermione said. "You're looking for a Potions professor, as well." She pointed to one of the parchments laying unraveled on the Headmistress' desk.

"Percy?" Ron's face screwed up in confusion and disbelief.

"Well, he did to go Romania with us," Hermione supplied.

"He was useless," Ron said. "He's rubbish in a fight. What's he going to do?"

"But he was there," Harry told them. "He knows the castle, and where it is. He'll help them."

"He'll get himself killed."

"He'll stay out of the way," Harry assured. "He's got Penny, right? He's not going to take any unnecessary chances."

"But what about the necessary ones?" Ron quietly asked. Hermione slipped her hand in his.

"Professor," Hermione said. "If there's anything we can do – anything at all…"

"Of course, Miss Granger."

"Professor," Harry couldn't take his eyes off the parchment in front of him. "Does that say Hagrid?"

"It does."

"For Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Yes."

"He's back?"

"He is."

Harry bolted down the stairs, down corridors, and then more stairs again. There were students in the corridors, but he hardly noticed them. When the Auror stopped him in the courtyard, Harry was out of breath.

"You don't…understand…I need to…talk to…Hagrid!"

"And you don't understand, lad. No students on the grounds means no students on the grounds!"

"But I'm Harry Potter!"

"I don't care if you're the whole bleeding Quidditch All Star Team! If you're a student here, you're not going out there!"

Harry stood back, and practically threw his wand he cast so hard. "_Expecto patronus!"_ His stag flew out of the tip of his wand already galloping away.

"But that was…" the Auror stammered. "Who the bloody hell did you say you were?"

"I'm Harry Potter."

"Yes, well, I expect you are, at that. A fully formed Patronus? At your age?"

"I've been doing them since I was thirteen."

"Oh, come now. No thirteen year old can do that."

Harry rolled his eyes and waited. He didn't have to wait long. Hagrid came bounding across the rickety wood bridge wearing the happiest grin on his wide, red face Harry had seen in a long, long while.

"'Arry!"

"Hagrid!"

Harry hugged his huge friend, and they both gave a laugh. "Got yer message. I'd heard you were back but, well, things 'ave been a might tense. Ever'things been locked up tight as a Gringott's vault."

"Where have you been?"

"Oh, a bit o' here and there. With a little more there than here, fer sure. But where 'ave you been, I'd like to know! The stories I've heard 'Arry-"

They sat in the courtyard for nearly an hour, catching up without Harry telling him exactly what he'd been up against. Hagrid had gone camping with his half-brother, who met up with a giantess and decided to stay and try his luck with her. After that, the camping turned dull, and Hagrid had decided to return home early.

"An' Professor McGonagall's given me my position back and ever'thing! I started teaching last Monday again. 'Course, classes are a bit more quiet now. And, the list o' Ministry approved creatures is a bit, well, uninspired. But I'm 'appy to be back in me hut, I have to say. Though, I don't know when all the furniture went and shrunk itself. The beds a wee bit small for me now."

It was a pleasure to spend some mindless time with Hagrid. But Harry drifted away from the conversation when he saw Ginny walking with Ernie on the courtyard's second level. They were talking, and if Harry didn't know better, he might've sworn that Ernie was carrying her books. He tried to reason with the jealousy inside – there was nothing to worry about, he knew. And still seeing them together like that was like watching them at the Autumnal Equinox Dance. Harry wondered if it would always be a kick in the gut to see her with other people.

She didn't see him. Ginny and Ernie walked back in the school, disappeared behind the heavy stone wall, and the light-hearted feeling Harry had when he'd been talking with Hagrid was now cold and dark and heavy. He remembered Charlie and Ez and Tonks, and the reason he was back at Hogwarts. It was great to see Hagrid again, but there were things he needed to do, and things he needed to prepare for.

"When I turned eleven," Harry said, and he turned to his large friend. Harry must've interrupted Hagrid, because he sat there with his mouth open. "Sorry. But, when I was eleven you came to collect me on my birthday. And, you said that you hadn't seen me since I was a baby."

"Right, that," Hagrid said with a nod.

"So, you and my parents were friends, then?"

"Well, I wouldn't say friends, no. We were friendly." Hagrid eyed him for a moment, and then lightened again. "I knew 'em when they went to school 'here, yeah. And I knew 'em through the Order, a bit. But outside of 'at we didn't exactly travel in the same circles, now."

"Then, how did you know me as a baby?"

"Well, I delivered you to your aunt and uncle's house, of course! On Sirius' old motorbike. Oh, you fussed when we tucked you inside your sling, but once we were airborne you settle right down. Were sleeping sound-like before we hit Bristol."

"We? You said we."

"Well, sure. Snape was what delivered you up."

"He got me out of Godric's Hollow, then?" Ez had said as much.

"Well, I was in my hut, see, and I got an owl from Dumbledore saying something terrible 'ad happened, and I was to collect James and Lily Potter's son from Severus Snape at such and such address and deliver 'im to such and such address, and to take no detours and expect a fight."

"Was there a fight?"

"Naw, the night was quiet."

"How did you get Sirius' motorbike?"

"Oh. Well, 'e couldn't very well take it to Azkaban, now could 'e? No, 'e offered it up to me to help with my Order work on account of me being to big to use a broomstick. And it was very good of 'im, too. 'E loved that motorbike, 'e did."

"But…that would mean that Sirius had known ahead of time that he'd be going to Azkaban."

"Oh, no, the motorbike came to me later. Through Dumbledore. He said Sirius had made a will of sorts, and if anything were to happen to him he wanted me to 'ave his bike. Of course, being that 'e was in Azkaban – it's not like any of us expected to ever see 'im again. We thought 'e was a murderer, right see? We thought he betrayed James and Lily and the Order."

"So, a murderer who betrayed the Order gave you his motorbike, and you accepted it?"

"Well, it was a right lovely bike, now wasn't it? And it wasn't the motorbike's fault that Sirius had owned it! And, well, it was the first real chance I'd had to fly, what with the outlaw of magic carpets!"

"All right, I'm sorry! Of course you had to accept. And I'm glad you did. I'm glad you still have something of Sirius. I'm glad we know the truth about him now. I wish everyone did."

"Ah, well…someday, perhaps. Yeh…yeh…"

"One other question, Hagrid, if you don't mind."

"Don't mind at all."

"When my father was in school here, there was an incident involving red caps that you took the blame for."

"Now, I had nothing to do with that! I wouldn't keep red caps on the grounds, let alone let 'em into the school! They're nothing but mischief-makers. Not a descent bone in their bodies."

"Do you know who did let them in? Was it Snape?"

Hagrid eyed Harry. "There were those who said it was."

"And? What do you think?"

Hagrid looked out and winced a little against the diffused sunlight. "Me? I think I got my motorbike in kind, if you take my meaning."

* * *

Three days and no sign of Percy or Lupin. Harry sat in Transfiguration, quill in hand as McGonagall went over the finer points of something-or-other. She was teaching again. There was a time when Harry would've loved that - McGonagall in Transfiguration class. Now it just meant Tonks was gone. And Charlie. And Ez.

The sky outside was winter gray, flat and lifeless except for the occasional owl on its way to the owlry. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he should be out there, that he should be searching for Charlie and the rest, or for Horcruxes, that he should be doing something more than pretending to care about N.E.W.T.s and graduation.

"Pst. Harry." Next to him, Ernie leaned in close. "You all right?"

"Yeah."

"And Ginny? How's she?"

"Why don't you tell me? I saw you walking with her the last three days."

Ernie blinked at him, and then broke into a wide grin. "You're jealous, are you? Of me? The great Harry Potter-"

"I'm not the great anything," Harry snapped. "And Ginny's my girlfriend now. She's with me."

"Relax, mate. You've nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"You sound worried."

"Shove off."

Harry dipped his quill as if he was going to take notes, but then he realized that Professor McGonagall had stopped lecturing and everyone was writing. Ernie leaned in again.

"She looks better to me. Rested. Happy. When she came back from hols, I thought maybe you two had broken it off again. She seemed…distracted. Anxious. She wouldn't talk to me about it." Ernie touched the tip of his quill to his bottom lips as he considered Harry. "She said you were on extended hols, which made sense because you were sick before Christmas, weren't you? It's why you left before classes ended? Yeah?"

Harry gave a non-committal grunt.

"Yeah. That's about as much as I could get out of her, too." Ernie leaned back in his chair but continued to stare at Harry. It was unnerving. "I don't think you were on hols."

"No?" Harry glanced over at Neville's parchment, hoping to guess what the assignment had been.

"No. And I don't think you were sick before classes ended, either." Ernie leaned in again. "It's something to do with You-Know-Who, isn't it?"

Harry whispered violently, "What? No!"

"Let me help."

Harry looked at him, but Ernie seemed completely serious. "You want to help fight Voldemort?"

"Bloody bugger, it's brilliant how you say his name like that! Like you're not scared of him or what he can do!" Ernie whispered, and excitedly pulled his chair closer to Harry. McGonagall looked up at the screech of wood on stone, but then once she met Harry's eyes, she went back to her work.

"I can fight," Ernie continued, quietly pressing his point. "I've worked hard in the DA, and Professor Tonks said I've got flare!"

"Flare won't protect you in a duel," Harry muttered.

"It's done me right so far."

"Yeah, but you've been dueling Neville."

"Neville's brilliant!"

"Yeah. I know, he's gotten good, and he's also seen real fighting. He knows a little of what he's up against. But he's not a Death Eater, and when you were dueling he wasn't really trying to kill you. Ernie, real life isn't like the DA. In real life people get hurt. People get taken. In real life when you're hit, you die."

"Unless you're you, eh?" Ernie said. "Look, I know things are dangerous out there. It's why I joined the DA in the first place. It's why I work my arse off in school. But I want to make a difference. I want to do something that's important. I want to help."

Harry understood that desire. It was born out of frustration. He'd experienced it all his life in one form or other. "Thanks. But I was just on extended hols with Ron and Hermione."

"You didn't take Ginny."

Harry wrote his name at the top of his parchment as if he was going to start the assignment. He hoped Ernie would take the hint.

"If it was just hols, you would've taken Ginny, too."

"She didn't want to go."

Ernie snorted. "Come now, Potter. We both know Ginny better than that."

"Fine. It wasn't hols."

"I knew it!" Ernie seemed pleased with himself. He began to scratch his name at the top of his parchment, too. "So, then, next time something comes up, you'll count me in, yeah?"

"If I can," Harry said, just to placate him.

"Fantastic!"

"Mr. Macmillian? Have you finished your essay?" McGonagall knew he hadn't, but she peered at him over her spectacles waiting for his answer.

"Almost," he lied. Then he began writing with a boyish grin slowly spreading across his face. He looked young and happy at the thought of adventure and, even though Harry knew he was almost a year younger than Ernie, he felt as old and weary as Lupin, who was now missing along with the rest of them.


	30. Chapter 29 Word, Heart and Soul

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 29 – Word, Heart and Soul

"Professor? Might I have a word?" The rest of the class was filing out and, as Ron collected his things, he gave Harry a questioning look. Harry nodded toward the door, saying silently that he'd fill him in later. Once everyone was gone, Professor McGonagall put down her quill and looked expectantly at him.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Er…I have some questions, if you have a moment, about my parents."

"Your parents? What sorts of questions?"

"Dunno, really. I'm just…there's a lot about my past that I don't know. Sometimes it's like other people know more about me than I do. I want to know about my parents. About where I came from. About what it was like for them. And you knew them-"

"I taught them," Professor McGonagall corrected. "And, we had some contact once they graduated through…a certain circle. But, I cannot pretend that I knew your parents."

"But…but what were they like?"

She pursed her lips. "My impression was that they were very young."

Harry shook his head. "But-"

"This is not the place for this discussion, Mr. Potter. If you'd like to visit in my office after supper, then perhaps-"

"Professor!" A second year Ravenclaw burst through the door. She had an excited look on her dark face. "Professor! It's Professor Lupin! He's returned! He's looking for…oh! He's looking for you, Harry Potter! He's with Professor Weasley-"

Charlie! Harry bolted out the door and was down the corridor when the girl called after him, "He's in the Great Hall, Harry!"

Harry was trampling down the Y in the grand stair when he nearly ran head-long into Ron coming from the other direction. "They're back!" Ron shouted without breaking a step.

"I heard!"

The doors to the Great Hall were thrown open, and there were several students milling about, but as it was nearly time for the next classes to begin, the Hall was mostly empty. Lupin sat collapsed at the end of Gryffindor table. Across from him sat Percy. Percy, not Charlie. Harry slowed to a walk, and then slowed even more. Lupin looked lost. Percy looked exhausted.

"We couldn't get in," Percy said once Harry sat next to him. "But even if we could – they're not there."

"We don't know that!" Lupin insisted. He slammed his fist on the table. Harry jumped. "They could be-"

"They're not there," Percy said again, calm but authoritatively. "Even Kingsley believed the crofter."

"Kingsley doesn't know everything. She could be in there-"

"Remus, she's not. None of them are in there, which means that they're still out there, somewhere." He waved a vague hand in the air behind him. "They're still fighting-"

Lupin shook his head, and then grabbed it as if it pained him. "What if she's hurt?"

"Tonks is tough. And so are Charlie and Ez. The three of them together are a formidable team. As long as they're together…never mind. Believe what you will. I'm going home to my wife." Percy stood, glaring down at Lupin. "They're not there, you great beast. It's a _good_ thing. Pull yourself together."

"Did Bill go with you, then?" Ron asked his brother.

"Bill and Fleur and Kingsley – and we were ready for a fight. But the place was deserted and locked up tight. They're not there, you hear?" he said to Ron, and then he pointed to Lupin. "No following this one back for a fool's errand. I'll talk with Bill later today and see what else the Order can do to locate them. Keep an eye on him, will you?" he asked Harry. There was real concern on his face despite his angry bravado – an expression Harry wasn't used to seeing on Percy. His sincerity was jarring, and Harry wondered if Lupin really would do something foolish in an effort to save Tonks. He didn't have long to wonder.

Once Percy was gone, Harry led Lupin up to Tonks' apartment, and the first thing he said through the door was, "I'm going back, Harry. Don't try to talk me out of it." Then he collapsed in a pile on Tonks' zebra print couch. He rubbed the heavy stubble on his cheek and wearily closed his eyes. "Now that I know what happened to Esmerelda when she was taken by that lot, I can't leave it alone. I can't leave Tonks to that fate. I've got to get her back…if she's at all gettable." He peered at Harry through heavy lids. "You know that I do."

Harry took the chair, and waved his wand at the fireplace to cast a silent Flame Charm. Just a few sparks bounced off the log in the firebox, and Harry followed it up with a self-conscious, _"Incendio."_ It was a spell Ginny could do silently already.

Lupin swallowed, and then closed his eyes again. "I was going to ask her to marry me. Can you believe that? Me. Imagine if she'd said yes."

"Of course she would've said yes. She will say yes, you'll see."

"No, no, no, no," he drawled and shook his head. "It would be a mistake. A catastrophe."

"How so?"

"What if she wants children?"

Harry shrugged. "What if she does? Werewolves can't have children?"

"That's not the point."

"But…does she want children? Have you asked? Perhaps she doesn't want them."

"She's a witch."

"So? All witches want babies?" Harry thought back to his scare with Ginny, and her weepy response when she found out they were in the clear. And then he thought of Ez. No, not all witches want babies. "Wouldn't you like to have a baby?" Harry thought Lupin would make an excellent father.

"Harry," Lupin said with resigned frustration, "it would just be a bad idea." There was some hesitation before he added, "But, if she was here now…I'd give anything to see her safe. I'd give her anything she wanted." He lolled his head toward Harry. "I almost sound like a wizard in love, don't you think? It's ludicrous."

"I don't know about ludicrous. I feel much the same about Ginny, and I don't think that's ludicrous."

"Yes, but I'm not…you. No. No, it doesn't matter a bit. She's not here, and she's not safe, and wishing it so doesn't change a bloody thing! I must find her!" Lupin leapt up from the couch, and began to pace. "I can't lie about, Harry. She would never abandon me! Not like I did Siri-" He stopped abruptly, the name dying on his lips. His shoulders slumped, his head hung much like the patched clothes on his frame. His face twisted, and it looked as if Lupin might actually cry.

"I think I need to be alone now."

It felt wrong to leave Lupin to himself when he was in such a dark mood, but Harry didn't know how to help, and quite honestly he thought he might be contributing to Lupin's downward spiral, so he went with a promise to check in with his old professor in the morning.

* * *

It was Colin Creevy who gave them the news. He ran through the portrait hole and, out of breath, began relating what he'd seen. "Professor Weasley…and Professor Tonks…the infirmary…and Professor…Wizmere…but…vampire…"

That was all Harry heard before he was out of the common room and bolting down the Tower stair.

"Harry, wait up!" Ron's bellow couldn't slow Harry. He sprinted along the third floor corridor, and down another flight of stairs.

"Hold up, Harry! What's happened? Is it her? Harry!" Lupin's alarmed voice.

"They're back!" Harry shouted over his shoulder. Lupin followed.

They burst into the infirmary together, and came to a staggered stop. Charlie stood in filthy, bloodstained clothes over a bed. Ez stood beside him, touching his arm, tempering the apprehension in his eyes. It was Tonks in the bed, her brown hair limp against the starched, white pillow, which caused a gasped behind Harry. Lupin pushed past and hurried to her side.

"Tonks, luv…" His voice was barely a whisper.

"No, none of that. I'm good, Remus. Just a bit under the weather." She looked sick, yes, but Harry hoped it was due to her drabness and not necessarily to anything sinister. Her robes were black, her trousers and shirt the most sedate brown he'd ever seen her wear. Her face was just as dirty as Charlie and Ez's, and seemed almost plain devoid of even a natural color in her cheeks.

Lupin ignored her reassurance, and after lightly kissing her knuckles he looked to Charlie for explanation.

"She was bitten," Ez told him, with no sense of delicacy. "Vampire."

And, sure enough, Harry saw the telltale punctures and gouges on her neck. Lupin's eyes went wide with fright, and he rolled back to sit on his heels.

"Oh, honestly," Tonks snapped. "You're a werewolf for casting out loud! Buck up!"

Lupin's gaze flew across the room to the dark, slight figure looming near the bank of stained glass windows. Claudau looked as gaunt and pale as ever.

"No, Remus," Tonks said sharply. "He saved me. And, I'm going to be all right. I wasn't infected."

Charlie nodded encouragingly. "We gave her the Vampurge Potion just to be sure-"

"What? That has to be administered within ten minutes of a bite. You carry it around, do you?" Lupin demanded in exasperation. "You had a vial on you?"

"You forget who you're talking to," Ez said dryly. "We had a fucking flask. And garlic salve. And Holy Water-"

"Oh, come now," Claudau said in his slow, casual way. His dark clothes, unlike the rest of them, looked pristine. "Stop flirting. Charliz will become jealous that you think on me so intently."

"_Charliz_ is the one who packed the shit, you miserable, blood-sucking monster!"

Claudau tried to hide his flinch, and Harry thought it had more to do with what Charlie had done, than the insult itself. Did the vampire look hurt? Startled? His red eyes settled on Charlie, who was watching Tonks with concern. Harry glanced back at her, looking for any sign that she was worse off than they were saying.

"We were in Romania for years," Ez said turning back to Lupin. "We know what we're doing when it comes to them."

"Us, them," Claudau said wistfully. "Oh, Ézmâreldi, why do you hate so?"

And, as if that comment had been the final straw, Ez screamed like a banshee and lunged for the vampire. Charlie caught her, and held her, in a tight embrace, but he seemed only mildly irritated with Ez, and more concern about the witch lying in the bed – not that Harry blamed him. Tonks looked terrible. Claudau, though, seemed to enjoy the rise he'd been able to coax from her.

"Remus, I'm good," Tonks said, redirecting from Ez's outburst. "Really. I'm just weak from the bite. They drain a good bit of energy, even when they don't infect. I'll be right as rain in a blink."

"Nymphadora," Lupin began, and followed her name with a heavy sigh.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, bloody hell. Now, what have I done? You knew I was going - I didn't walk out. That was the deal, right? We're good as long as I tell you-"

"We're good," he agreed. "It's not that."

"Charlie, let me go, damn it! I'm going to stake him," Ez said flatly, darkly. He kissed her temple, but his muscled arms remained tight around her. "I'm serious. Give me back my fucking wand."

"Then what is it?" Tonks asked. "For you to use my given name – it has to be bad."

"I'm a beast," he talked over her. "I'm an old, penniless, beast with nothing to offer."

"What? What are you on about?"

"I tried to find you, and I couldn't. I couldn't even do that for you. I'm worthless in every way to you."

"Oh, bloody – are you breaking it off with me? Remus?"

Ez made a fast move, and suddenly Charlie was doubled over and holding his stomach. She threw herself at Claudau, aimed for his thin, white neck with hands Harry had no doubt could crush a throat. Harry did wonder though, if choking would hurt a vampire.

Lupin was lost in what he was saying, and continued with, "Well, worthless in every way but one. I can give you something. I can be what you want me to be. For you, I think I can be anything."

"You're pissed?" Tonks searched his eyes for the tell-tale signs of alcohol.

"No, no, I'm not doing this properly," he said with a self-depreciating chuckle. He kissed her hand again. "Luv, I know you can do better. I know that I–"

Charlie managed to grab Ez and haul her back so that Claudau was able to scramble up from the floor, clutching his throat, and making choking noises. He looked at Ez with disgust. "Animal!" he bit out. She roared as she jumped at him again.

Charlie held tight. "Mere! I said knock it off!"

"Where's my wand? I'm going to kill him!"

"He's already dead, you bloody nutcase! Now, cut it out!"

She didn't look like she had any intention of stopping.

"Tonks, luv…"

"Remus, just stop. You're not breaking up with me. I won't allow it."

"I'm trying to tell you-"

"Yes," Tonks interrupted. "And I don't want to hear it! I've had a bloody hell of a week, and at the moment I'm too knackered to hex you properly, so just stop!"

"Harry!" Ginny hurried in. "I heard – Charlie! It's true! You're back!"

"Oi, Ginny! How have you been?" He smiled broadly at his sister. Ez struggled fiercely against him.

Ginny's eyes went wide. "Er…good. You?"

"Been worse," Charlie quipped. Ez's head snapped back and slammed him in the mouth. They both seemed to feel that one. Ez shot a protective hand to the side of her jaw. "Damn it, Mere! Will you stop?"

Claudau laughed.

A shot of blue magic flew past Harry. Lupin ducked out of the way just in time, but Tonks still had her wand aimed at him, and she looked as if that first blast had been intended as a warning. Lupin jumped to his feet.

"All right!" he shouted. "All right! Now's is a bad time…"

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Ginny looked from the mocking vampire by the window to Ez and Charlie embraced in a weird sort of wrestle while Ez, in torn, filthy robes, continued her ineffective attack on Claudau. And then Ginny's gaze landed on Tonks in the bed aiming a wand at Lupin who held his hands up in surrender.

"What did I miss?" Ginny asked.

"Er…I reckon Ez is trying to kill Claudau there. Have you meet Claudau?" The vampire waved at Ginny, and gave her a leering smile that made Ez lurch even harder. As usual, Harry found the vampire unsettling. "And, Charlie, there, is trying to stop her. He must've taken her wand already, or I reckon she would've used it by now. Tonks was bitten by a vampire – no, not that one – and she wasn't infected, so we've been told not to worry. And over here…Lupin's breaking things off with Tonks, though I don't think she's about to let that happen. "

"Oh, for casting out loud - _I'm trying to propose!_" Lupin shouted. The room went quiet. Ez turned and looked from Lupin to Tonks, Claudau momentarily forgotten.

"Propo…" Tonks' eyes went wide. "Propose? Marriage? To me? You're mad."

Lupin, hands still up, sighed. "I know you can do better-"

"Oh, shut it! Don't start with that self-deprecating shit again, get to the marriage part."

"Tonks…Nymphadora… I don't know how it happened, or why, but it has. It doesn't make any sense."

"What's happened?" she demanded.

"I've…fallen in love, I reckon. I didn't mean to, but I have."

Harry wouldn't have believed it possible, but Tonks' eyes grew even wider. "You love me?" she asked, breathless.

"With my heart and soul."

"And body?"

"Well, naturally. That bit between us has been in place for a while."

Pale as she was, Tonks smiled a bright, goofy smile. The tips of her hair curled up into tight pink loops. "Oh, Remus…"

Charlie cleared his throat and glanced purposefully at her wand still aimed at Lupin's chest, and then winced a little. Tonks quickly lowered it. "But, Remus, are you certain?"

"Yes." There wasn't much conviction there, and he must've heard its lack because Lupin said it again. "Yes. I'm certain…now. I should've told you sooner, only I've just come to the realization myself. I didn't think it was possible for me to feel romantic love again, but you…you've made the world possible."

She waved away his compliments. "About marrying, I mean. Emotions are running high at the moment, but in a fortnight, when I've been back for a while, you'll think differently."

"But that's the thing, isn't it? I'll still love you in a fortnight. That's how love works, I'm afraid."

"Ask me again then," Tonks said. She reached out her hand to him, and he stepped to her and took it. "When you've had a bit of a breather from all of this, ask me again. And, Remus," she said squeezing his hand, "if you don't, it's all right. I love you too, and that can be enough for me. I don't need you to be anyone but who you are. I'm not going anywhere."

There was a sniffle, and then a sob, and to Harry's shocked surprise, Ez clung weeping against Charlie. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Hormones," he mouthed to Ginny, who looked equally disturbed. "All right, Mere. Let's go have a lie down. I'll find you some tea-"

"Oh, shut it, you ape!" she snapped and pushed him away. "I'm fine! Just…I'm hungry. Give me back my damn wand."

"Of course you are. Let's find some chips-"

"Do not placate me, you…you…wizard!" She wiped the back of her hand over her face, smearing dirt and tears, and then sucked in a deep breath. "Nym, I'll be back to check on you in a little while."

"Off with you!" Tonks said playfully. "You're a bleeding mess! Go eat and have a lie-in, and I'll check on _you_ in the morning."

Ez nodded and started toward the door when she seemed to realize for the first time that Harry was in the room. Her face crumpled when she saw him, her chin quivered and her eyes watered. "You're OK?"

He nodded. "Good, actually. You?"

She shrugged. "Great." Then the tears began to stream and she crushed him in a hug.

He tried patting her back, at a loss as to how to calm her. "It's all right," Harry whispered. "Everyone's good."

Ginny's eyes were round as she gaped, but they were nothing compared to the horror on Ron's face. To him, it seemed, the sight of Ez broken down in tears was as good as Harry comforting a distraught Snape.

"All right, Mere," Charlie cooed as he ran a hand over her back. "You're scaring the natives. Come along. I'll draw you a bath."

"Bath?" She sniffled. "Really?"

"And chocolate."

"You want sex, don't you?"

Charlie laughed and led her to the door. Claudau watched them go with a look that made the hairs on Harry's neck stand on end.

"Oh, my magic!" Professor McGonagall rushed in and, seeing Charlie and Ez on their way out, she gave them both a broad smile. "It's good to have you back," she said to them. She touched Charlie's arm as she passed – an almost imperceptibly subtle gesture that betrayed her Headmistress shell.

"And…Professor Tonks? You're wounded?"

"I'm good," Tonks said with a smile. In fact, she did look much better than when Harry had first arrived. Playing with Lupin's knuckles, she was pinking up.

It was then that Ginny slipped her hand into Harry's and led him from the room. In the corridor, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "They're back."

The relief in her voice was palpable, and her feelings so mirrored his that for a moment Harry worried that he'd inadvertently slipped into her head again. When he was sure they were safe, he pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, "Yeah."

"And we're all safe."

"Yeah."

"Are you planning on leaving again? Any time soon?"

"Not soon, no," Harry said.

"Hermione says you're not minding your lessons again," she told him as she fiddled with the collar of his shirt. One of her fingers skimmed a playful line across his neck, and he swallowed. "Harry, when you leave…you'll take me with you." It was a question disguised as a statement. "'Whatever happens,' you said. 'Whatever happens, don't leave my side.' You said it, Harry."

He gazed into her rich, brown eyes, wishing he could fall into them and sink inside her beautiful mind again, without having to worry about consequences. "I don't know what's going to happen, Ginny, but I'm here for a while."

"How long is a while?"

"I don't know. I need to talk to McGonagall, and Charlie, now that he's back."

"But…but that won't take long at all. A day or two." Her voice went high. "Harry…"

"Easy, Gin," he whispered, and pulled her close. He kissed her forehead and rubbed his nose along side hers. "When I go, you'll know. And…and if I can take you with me, I will."

"I have your word?"

"My word, my heart, my soul," he promised, kissing the bridge of her nose after each word. "You have my love, Ginny. My everything."

She signed, closed her eyes. Her lips were warm, her tongue gentle, and she caressed the back of his neck as she kissed him deeply. His whole body tingled.

"Oi! Get a room, you two!" Ron grumbled as he passed them on his way out of the infirmary. "Honestly, I've lost my appetite now."

Ginny smiled against Harry's mouth as he continued to kiss her.

* * *

It was that evening as Harry was walking back from the Great Hall, having left Hermione and Ron on their way to the library, that he happened upon the Headmistress and Charlie in debate. The corridor was deserted save for the two of them, and Harry hung back beside a suit of armor, telling himself he wasn't spying so much as politely not interrupting.

"I'm sorry, Professor Weasley, I truly am. But I must consider the integrity of this school and the students that have been entrusted to me."

"You speak as if I'm going to corrupt the whole school with my deviant ways."

"Do not over simplify the matter at hand. I am aware that both you and Professor Wizmere are an asset to this school – when you're here," she added dryly. "But the fact remains that the two of you are unmarried. Unmarried professors cannot co-habitat at Hogwarts."

"We're Bonded. That's the same as being married."

Professor McGonagall snorted. "Hardly."

"She's my wīf," Charlie said flatly, "and she's going to have my child."

"Yes. About that-"

"That's non-negotiable," Charlie growled.

There was a moment's pause while Professor McGonagall smiled smartly at him. "How far gone is she, Charlie?"

She used his given name, and he visibly relaxed. The formality between them melted away. He ran a hand through coppery hair that had over-grown its cut. "Four months, if my math is correct. I think he's due in July, maybe."

"It's a boy, then?"

He gave her a lopsided grin, and a sheepish shrug. "I'm a Weasley."

She took a step to him and, in an uncharacteristic move, she touched his shoulder. "And you're not going to marry, then? You've decided against it, have you?"

"Of course we'll marry. It's just – if it were up to me, we'd have married years ago. And now she's so bloody emotional all the time…I don't want to bring it up with her like this. I'd rather wait-"

"I'd rather you didn't," Professor McGonagall said. "She'll be showing soon, and even under her robes, in a month or so the students will be able to tell - those who don't already know." She touched his face. It was the most maternal gesture Harry had ever seen her make. "Marry that witch and make her a Weasley."

"Professor-"

She dropped her hand. "And give this old witch a reason to celebrate. I know it would make your mother happy."

"It would make my mother delirious," Charlie said with a shake of his head.

"If you like, I could speak with Professor Wizmere-"

"Oh, Merlin, no!" Charlie's expression of horror made Professor McGonagall smile. "Do not talk to Mere about this. Please!"

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, and gave Charlie and amused eyebrow lift. "You were always a favorite, you know. Teachers aren't supposed to have favorites, but we all do, and you were one of mine. And I worried for a while that you would end up with one of those flutter-byes that you fancied while you were in school here. All pretty faces and good grades, and nothing of substance. Not a bit of life or challenge in the lot of them."

"Yes, well, I got my challenge, well enough."

"That's you have. And more, I suspect. Marry her, Charlie. Give your son a name that he can be proud of."

Charlie looked grim. "We're Bonded. That should be married enough."

"Married enough? Did you really say that? Married enough?" McGonagall smirked. "Is it possible that Charlie Weasley isn't up to the challenge, then?"

"No, it's not…it's…she's…it's complicated."

"Of course it is, dear. She's a witch of substance, and we're nothing if we're not complicated." She left him with a solemn smile, and for a moment Charlie just stood there and watched her go.

Harry felt it was his cue then to make himself known. He stepped out of hiding and strolled down the corridor as if he'd just turned the corner. "Hiya, Charlie."

"Oh. Yeah. Hallo, Harry."

"You all right? You look a bit-"

"I'm getting married," he said grimly. "You wouldn't know anything about how to make that happen, would you? I need to find a Ringman. And a ring, I reckon. And I need to tell Mere. Ask Mere. Beg Mere." He rubbed a hand over his face. "She's going to kill me."

"You're Bonded, though. Doesn't she already know?"

Charlie gave a distracted shake of his head. "She's asleep. Blissfully napping. I have to act fast. Where the bloody hell is Percy? He's married. Maybe he's got some ideas."

Harry followed Charlie down to the dungeon, and waited in the corridor while Charlie went in to fetch his brother. They emerged, one sullen and the other baffled.

"What is it, then? Has something happened? Is it Mum?"

"Mum?" Charlie asked. "Why would it be Mum?"

"You've taken me out of a class, Charlie, it had best be something." Prissy Percy stood as tall as his spine would stretch, and he glared down at his brother. "Now, what is it?"

"I'm getting married."

There was a moment's pause while Percy schooled his face into something like polite indifference. "Congratulations. Anyone I know?"

"It's got to happen soon. Tonight, if I can manage."

"What? Bloody hell, Charlie, what in blazes have you done?"

"Hagrid's back in his hut, and McGonagall wants to put me in guest quarters."

Percy blinked. "And?"

"And! And I want to live with my wīf, you pansy-arsed fop! But McGonagall won't allow it because Bonded isn't the same as married in her eyes, which I could protest with the Ministry, I reckon, but that would take weeks. Perhaps months. After all, they haven't come down on the side of Ancient Magic in a very long time. No doubt your friends there would have to invent more paperwork to deal with it."

Percy made a face at the dig. "Why not simply live apart for a while?"

"No, I said. I want to be with her. We're going to have a baby."

"Oh, come now. It's not as if anyone is going to regulate your comings and goings in her quarters. And maybe the distance will help."

"Help what, exactly?" Charlie challenged. "Spoken to Penny lately? Is the distance helping?"

Percy's expression went hard, and Harry was reminded that Percy was also living apart from his wife at the moment. Really, apart. She was still down in Blackpool where they'd bought a small house and she worked as a Floo Inspector. Ginny knew loads about her new sister-in-law, and that meant Harry had to know, too.

"How dare you!"

"Look, Perc, I know you don't think I'm good enough for Mere-"

"You're not! You've never appreciated her?"

"Like you? Is that what you did to her?" There was a challenge there, and Harry tightened his grip on his wand.

"It's what I did _for_ her, you ape!"

Harry managed to cast the Shield Spell over Percy before Charlie's fist made contact, and his knuckles bounced off the magic skin to skim the stone wall beside them. A few choice words followed and, while Charlie cradled his fist and glowered, Percy took out his own wand and cast a Mending Spell to right Charlie's hand. Harry couldn't believe he'd just protected Percy Weasley. Percy, glancing at him, looked a little disconcerted, too.

"Look," Percy said, once again sounding pompous and self-righteous, "it hardly matters what I think. It only matters what she thinks, and if she wants to marry you, then…what? Charlie? You did ask her, didn't you? She knows you're going to try to do this tonight, doesn't she?" A thin smile spread across Percy's face. "Brother, she's going to skin you alive."

"Help me," Charlie pleaded. "She's not keen on marriage. How do I convince her?"

Percy shook his head, but Harry could tell from his expression that he was thinking it over.

"She did ask you to marry her," Harry offered. "When we found you in Romania, I heard her ask you to Bond with her _and_ marry her."

"That's right!" Charlie said, new hope blooming.

"It would be better if you could get her to ask you again," Percy said slowly, "instead of it coming from you. And, knowing Ez…why do you call her Mere?"

Charlie paused. "That's…none of your business."

Percy's face twitched. "Like that, is it?"

"Her name's Esmerelda, right?" Harry offered. "Es-_mere_-lda Wiz-_mere_. It's there twice."

Without looking at Harry, Charlie muttered a small, "Yeah, that's it," before turning back to his brother. "You'll help me, then?"

Percy sighed. "If she's going to have a child, then she should be married. It's for her own good, really."

"Fine. I'll accept that bit of chauvinistic bravado as a yes, and thank you. Only, don't say that to Mere. She clocked me in the ear when I mentioned something like that." Charlie turned to Harry. "Can I count on you, as well?"

"What can I do?" Harry asked. Charlie smiled.


	31. Chapter 30 The Wedding

Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 30 – The Wedding

Harry stood next to one of the small round tables set up in the Great Hall instead of the usual House tables. Ron stood beside him, moody and withdrawn. The magic ceiling, along with the rest of the hall, was charmed to look as if they were in a grove deep in a secluded forest - all limbs and stars and fairylight. The other students milled about in awe of the transformation, and questioned why they'd been called out of their respective common rooms at nine o'clock at night. No one guessed a wedding.

"You all right?"

"Will do," Ron muttered. He looked a bit green, actually.

"Are you nervous about being Charlie's Ringman?"

Ron shrugged. "Bill's here now. He'll do it. He's had practice with Transverse Spells, being a curse breaker and all." He chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek, and glared at the flowers that seemed to fall from the tree branches above them only to melt into heart shaped petals just over their heads before turning to glittering dust, and then disappearing all together.

"It's pretty," Harry said. "Don't you think?"

Ron gave a non-committal grunt.

Neville waved from beside one of the pilasters that now looked like an old, gnarled tree trunk. Seamus and Dean stood next to him, along with the Hufflepuff girl Neville had taken to the Autumnal Equinox Dance. Lydia? Harriet? They'd never really been introduced, never had a class together, and Harry couldn't seem to ever remember her name.

"So," Harry said, a little irritated by Ron's continued surliness. "Why do you look like you swallowed your Potions homework?"

"Ha, ha," Ron said, not amused. His cauldron had blown up the night before, and left a foul smelling scorch mark on their dorm room carpet that even Hermione hadn't been able to get out. It was supposed to have been a Sleeping Draught, but the fumes mostly kept the boys awake and sick to their stomach.

"This is going to be fun, don't you think? You like dancing now, don't you? You seemed to enjoy yourself enough at Bill's wedding. And Dobby's pulling a feast together-"

"Don't you think she did this awfully fast?" Ron injected.

"Who Ez? I think it's about time-"

"Hermione," Ron said, irritated with Harry's slowness. "She pulled together a whole bleeding wedding in seven hours."

"Yeah," Harry glance around in appreciation. The band was already warming up on the platform the professors' table normally sat on. "How did she book the music?"

"Who the bloody hell knows? But it's scary. Damn scary." He glared at the tall musician with the long, shaggy hair.

"Oh, come on, it's brilliant! The Wicked Witches are going to play Hogwarts tonight, and Ginny adores their music. What could be better for our first official date?"

"Nothing. It's bleeding perfect," Ron practically snarled.

"So, why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like the bloke holding the charmed guitar is Viktor Krum."

Ron shifted his gaze to the petals melting near his head. "Forget it. I'd better find Mum."

"Yeah." His parents might distract Ron a little, and give Harry a couple of moments to…gaze on a smiling Ginny dressed in nothing more spectacular than her school uniform and robes, and still so lovely Harry thought his heart might twist itself inside out. Her eyes were bright, and she laughed as she reached him.

"What's got you all red?" she happily asked.

He took her hand and pulled her close, looping his arms around her, and linking his fingers at the small of her back. "You don't laugh enough. I love your laugh."

She smirked. "Has Seamus spiked the strawberry juice, then?"

"I'm not drunk."

"Well, I wish I was. Mum's already crying, and Fleur's said nothing but how her wedding was superior in every way – and the ceremony hasn't even started. Have you seen Charlie yet? What's he going to wear? Did Hermione say?"

"I haven't really talked to Hermione since this afternoon. She's been a trifle busy."

"I'll say." Ginny leaned in close to him. "But this is the way to do it, I think. Bill's wedding was a year of headaches for everyone. As irritating as Mum is right now, it's only one night of madness. I think I'd rather get it over with. Like ripping a bandage off."

Harry leaned back to look at her. She was serious. "I'll try not to be offended by that."

Ginny's eyes went wide. "Oh! I didn't mean marrying you!"

"Oh? So, you've got some other bloke you're thinking of marrying?"

"I wasn't…I don't really think about marriage at all. To anyone." She looked around for a distraction as the color crept in her cheeks. "I'm sixteen."

"Yeah, and I have an evil wizard to defeat. But someday I will defeat him, and someday you won't be sixteen."

Ginny blinked, and for a moment she looked as if she might say something. Harry's stomach clenched. Then she looked away again, and her eyes landed on her brother looking grumpy and standing alone against a wall disguised as a cliff face. "You think about marrying me, do you?"

"In the abstract, maybe," Harry said. "I think about the future, and you're always there in it with me."

This made her smile, though she didn't take her eyes off Ron. "He thinks Hermione wants him to propose."

Harry lowered his brow, and looked at his best mate. "No. Does he, really? Marriage? Why would he think that?"

"Because he's a bleeding idiot. He said something daft about how she must've been thinking weddings for a long while because she managed to string this one together with so little effort."

"But she's Hermione," Harry protested. "And I'm sure it was a tremendous effort."

"Sure, she's Hermione. But did you see the flowers? And the white carpet with the glittering pearls? And the hundreds of tiny things she's thought up and managed to conjure, or had someone else conjure for her? Mum worked forever on Bill's wedding, and Ron's right when he says that that attention to detail takes forethought."

Harry was stunned. "But…marriage? Hermione wants Ron to propose marriage? You've gone mental!"

"No, no. I don't think that. But I can understand why Ron's so worried about it. And…where _did_ she find the band? It's not like you can just Floo the Wicked Witches and expect them to turn up. How did she do that?"

"Could I have your attention, please?" Professor McGonagall called from the head of the Hall. "Please settle! Thank you. You must all be wondering just why I've called you all down here at this time of night. It's not often that we have an opportunity like this – well, we've never had anyone married here at Hogwarts before, to tell the truth–"

Whispers and gasps punctured the quiet in the chamber, and the Headmistress had to raise her voice to talk over them. "In any event, this is an historic occasion at Hogwarts, and I thank each and everyone one of you for witnessing-"

The large doors opened and Hermione hurried in. Seamus gasped and then laughed, and nudged Dean. "I told you!" he cooed, and then grinned with satisfaction at Ron.

Hermione nodded to Professor McGonagall, and the Headmistress began again. "As many of you are aware, Professor Weasley and Professor Wizmere-"

The doors opened again, and this time it was Percy who ran in. He shook a frantic head at Professor McGonagall, and then waved his outstretched hands as if to say, "No good."

"Professor Weasley?" she began, but the shouting from the corridor stopped her question, and her face fell. The whole Hall seemed to lean in to listen. Two voices. A witch and a wizard. It wasn't a leap to assume it was Charlie and Ez.

"Percy, dear," Mrs. Weasley stepped forward with her eyes red-rimmed, and a purple kerchief clutched in one hand. "Percy, what is it? Is there a problem?"

Hermione, rolling her eyes, marched back out the doors in a huff, and Percy went after her. A rumble of scandalized curiosity rippled through the room.

"Let me guess," Ginny said flatly. "He thought he'd surprise her, did he?"

Harry was at a loss. "Didn't he tell her this afternoon while Percy was collecting the rings? What was he doing, then?" Harry muttered grimly. "It's not exactly a surprise party sort of event."

"No, it's not, is it? What is wrong with my brother? He's so sensible, so grounded when it's dragons or Quidditch, or anything really, except that witch."

"He loves her."

"I love you, and it doesn't make me mental."

"He's scared," Harry said. "When you were with Ernie, I was scared. I was mental for a bit, there."

Ginny met his gaze. "I want to reconnect."

The statement came out of no where, and Harry took a reflexive step back. "No. Ginny, no."

"When we marry, I want to Bond with you." Her face was calm, but there was a fire in her eyes that left his mouth dry.

Harry choked a little, and then licked his lips. "I thought you didn't think much about marriage."

"I don't. But I think about having you inside me, and having my mind in yours all the bloody time. I miss the feel of your thoughts."

"You hated me!" Harry insisted, and then caught himself and purposely lowered his voice. "You hated my thoughts – even the thoughts I didn't know I was having!"

"I didn't know how to react to them then."

"And you do now?"

She glanced over her shoulder, at the closed doors and the argument that was undoubtedly taking place on the other side. "It's never perfect, Harry, but now I know…I can understand why Charlie wanted to reconnect…why he and Ez have always been drawn to one another again and again. The craving…it's unbearable sometime." She touched his cheek, cupped it, and then dragged a slow finger down the side of his throat until her palm lay flat on his chest. "It's been weeks, Harry, and I still wake up in the middle of the night reaching for you with my mind like an amputee might reach with a phantom hand." Her own hand slipped under his robes and smoothed over his shirt and stomach until she found his belt. She tugged him closer, and a flutter tickled through his belly. It woke another part of him, too.

The move was a little too familiar, and the Great Hall far too public. "Ginny…"

The massive doors slammed open again, and the bang that reverberated through the room startled Harry and Ginny apart. Harry reflexively drew his wand, but then quickly lowered it when he saw that it was Charlie rushing into the Hall, with a screeching Ez in his arms.

"Charles Septimus Weasley, you goat fucking bastard! Put me down! Put me down this instant, or so help me Merlin, when I get my hands on a wand I'll make you wish you'd never been born! Pig fucking brute! Damn you, you cock sucker! Put me down!"

It was an awkward hold he had on her. With the two of them about the same height and Ez struggling, it took Charlie's powerful arms to carry her cradled against him with her wrists pinned behind her back. It was a tenuous hold at best, but one of self-preservation, Harry thought, because he didn't doubt even for a moment that Ez would hold true to every single one of her threats. Red-faced and panting, Charlie stumbled through the crowd that parted for him in stunned silence. Ez's rant dissolved into insults to his character and manhood.

"If you ever do that to me," Ginny said, leaning close to Harry, "I'll kill you where you stand."

"This can only end badly."

Just before Charlie made it to the professor's platform and a horrified Professor McGonagall, Ez slammed her forehead hard into Charlie's face. He lost his grip on her as he keeled over backward. A couple of screams and a general uproar came from the crowd. Both Charlie and Ez went down in a heap of robes and curses.

Ez crawled to standing, while Charlie cupped his hands protectively over his nose. She reached for the nearest student, who was too shocked to duck out of the way, and grabbed him by the front of his robes. She took his wand, and aimed it at Charlie. Tonks, out of no where, stepped between them with a defiant look. She had her own wand trained on Ez.

"Drop it, Ez!"

"This doesn't involve you," Ez snapped at her.

"I've given my oath," Tonks reminded her. "I will Stun you to protect him."

"No!" Charlie insisted, his voice muffled through the broken nose. "Nym, don't! Please! The baby!"

Another murmur that rippled through the Hall.

"Charlie? What the blazes is going on?"

"Not now, Mum!" Charlie snapped. "I'm trying to get married!"

"Like hell I'll marry you, you fucking barbarian!" Ez shouted. "Nym get out of my way!"

"Professor Wizmere, I really must insist that you mind your tongue!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "And lower your wand! This behavior is deplorable."

Ez then turned her wand at the Headmistress. The whole Hall gasped, but Ez didn't seem to notice. "You! This is your fault! You set him up to this!"

"Mere, don't!" Charlie shouted, and then lunged for her. She turned just as he dove, and he twisted as he grabbed her so that when they landed hard on the floor she was sprawled on top of him. Harry heard - from the distance of a good forty feet - the ripe melon sound of skull and stone colliding. He pushed through the people, knocking students aside so that he could get to them.

"No!" Ez shrieked just as Harry broke through. Panicking, she threw herself at Charlie, whose nose was already starting to swell. Blood covered his open mouth and chin. He wasn't moving. Harry held his own breath to catch any movement in Charlie's chest. Ez, shaking, touched Charlie's head, his face, his chest, and when his eyes flickered open, she gasped in relief.

"No, I'm all right," he said, fighting to focus his eyes on her. "Mere…Mere, stop screaming…my head…"

"I lost you there for a moment," she whispered. "The Bond-"

"Is there," he finished for her. "I feel your…bloody hell, Mere." He seemed to come back to himself, and he wiped at his face with the back of his hand. "Why does it always have to be like this? Why can't we just – that's not fair! I was going to ask you – because you would've said no! I didn't! I don't know who put this all together, but it wasn't me! I didn't want this! I thought it would be small, and certainly private-"

Ez's furious gaze lifted, and then settled on Hermione, who wilted a little.

"No, stay with _me_," Charlie said aloud, and holding his head. He struggled to his feet. "You're angry at _me_."

"Of course I'm…" Her anger cut off her words, and she whirled around until she faced Charlie again. They stood there like that for an uncomfortable amount of time, glaring and seething; her holding her middle and Charlie his head. The students began to nervously whisper and fidget. Ginny clutched Harry's hand tighter.

"They're talking it through."

"Looks like they're shouting," Harry whispered to her.

"Yeah, I remember that, too." She leaned against him. "It hurts to fight like that. You can feel both sides so sharply."

"Bonding has its drawbacks."

She didn't respond to this, but kept her thoughts to herself.

All at once Ez lifted her gaze and looked over the students. "All right. Who's is this?" Kenny Glass raised a reluctant hand and she threw the wand at him. "Thanks," she bit out. Then she turned and stormed toward the doors.

Charlie called after her. "Where are you going? You can't leave! Mere! _Esmerelda!_"

Her full name stopped her, but she didn't turn around.

"I've asked you a hundred times to marry me already, and I'll only ask this once more," Charlie called to her. "We're Bonded, so as far as I'm concerned, you're my wīf, and I'm your hsbnda, and nothing will ever change that. Nothing. You can't leave me, Mere, but you can walk out that door. You can walk away now, if you like, and let our son be born a Wizmere."

She spun around, robes rippling and eyes blazing. Charlie dropped hard to his knees. "Marry me, _mea iubesc_."

She didn't hesitate. "No."

Charlie tried to hide his pain, and his face molted red. "I know you want to."

"Bullshit."

"We're Bonded, Mere. I can feel the struggle inside you. You want to marry me."

"I want to hex you!"

"Yeah, but you want to marry me, too. Marry me first. I love you, Mere." A couple of girls standing near him sighed dreamily. Ez rolled her eyes. "Mere. I'm serious. I'm not going to ask again. You know I won't."

Her gaze was intense, locked with his, and Harry wondered what they were saying to each other. Not yelling this time, surely, but whatever they exchanged was just as powerful. A couple of the students nearest Ez shied away. The silence in the Hall was so profound that the hair on Harry's arms stood out.

Ez broke the eye contact first, and took a step back, breathing hard like she was fighting a bought of nausea. Charlie looked crestfallen, and Harry's chest tightened.

When she turned back toward the doors, Harry called out to her. "Ez!" He pushed past some students, and the whole room seemed to break into a restless hum. She was out the door before Harry broke free of the crowd. "Ez!" he called again. "Hold up!"

"Not now, Harry. I can't…"

"Please." In the quiet of the corridor, he grabbed her wrist, and she didn't fight him. Her eyes, full of tears, planted in the middle of his chest. "What happened in there? Are you all right?" he asked. "Ez? Are you all right?"

Her chin quivered. "You're worried about me?" A cry bubbled out of her. She covered her face with her hand, and gave into the sobs.

Harry touched her arm. "What is it, then? What's going on? If he's right, and you want to marry him-"

She jerked away. "You're on his side!"

"Do you want to marry him?"

"That's not the fucking point!"

"Then what is the fucking point?"

Her face screwed up again, and her shoulders dropped. She turned and slowly made her way down the corridor to the grand stair. When she sat on the steps, Harry joined her.

"He's the love of my life," she said, wiping the smeared black from under her eyes with the hem of her robes. "And he's right. I do want to marry him, the fucker. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"You want to marry him, but…" Harry prompted.

She shook her head. "Have you ever been so terrified that all you wanted to do was turn and run as hard as you could?"

"Terrified of Charlie, you mean? Or of marriage? Aren't you essentially married to him, anyway? Being Bonded seems a much bigger deal if you really can't leave him ever."

"I can stay in Hogsmeade. That's what he did when he left after the Autumn Dance. It's close enough."

"What difference would that make? You're still Bonded. You can still hear his thoughts, and feel what he feels."

"I'm tied to him, yeah. And it makes me sick to think that my life and happiness are in that maniac's hands…just like he always wanted. Shit, Harry. How the hell did I get here?"

He reckoned she'd gotten there the same way they all had – one mistake at a time.

"You know," she continued, "he didn't even tell me what he'd cooked up tonight. I thought we were just coming down for a late supper he'd arranged with Dobby. I'm starving."

"There's food in there."

"I know. He's eating pie. Fucking bastard." She glanced at Harry. "You knew and didn't tell me."

"I thought he should be the one to do that. Actually, I thought he would."

"Yes, but he didn't, did he? When he touched the door it was Hermione's mind that screamed out what was waiting for me in the Great Hall. She could barely contain herself, she was so proud, so excited. And Charlie – all he could say was, 'I'm sorry,' and 'Let's make the best of it, shall we?' That wizard is a dead man."

"If he had asked you proper, with roses-"

Ez snorted. "He would never do that."

"But if he had?"

"I would've laughed."

Harry nodded. He could've assumed as much. Hermione would love something like that, though he was fairly certain Ginny wouldn't appreciate it.

"He could've asked, though," she said quietly. "I wanted to ask him. Eventually. Someday. But not like this, with his mother standing there glaring at me like I'd corrupted her perfect son. Or all the students. How am I supposed to be an authority figure to them now?" She snorted. "I fucking hate authority figures. I never wanted to be an authority figure."

"Ez, you did ask him to marry you. In Romania. That night that you two Bonded."

Her gaze shot to him, and then softened as memory flooded. "Right. I did, didn't I? But that was just to keep him alive. That was because he was about to…" She shook her head. "It's no good, Harry."

"All right, then. Shall I walk you back to your room?" He stood and held out a hand to help her up.

"Just like that? You're not going to try to tell me that I'm making a massive mistake?"

"Are you?"

"Oh, don't start that shit with me, you patronizing little bastard," she snapped, and stood without his help. "I know you think I should marry him. It's written all over your face. It's why you chased me out here."

"Maybe I just came out to make sure you were all right. Why would I want you to marry a wizard you clearly don't want to marry, even if perhaps secretly you do?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because I love him, and he loves me, and blah, blah, blah, love is great and flowers and sunshine streaming from my ass!"

"I know that love can be hard – hell, it's the hardest thing I've ever done. But I wouldn't ever walk away from Ginny like you did Charlie in there, and I wouldn't for a second roll my eyes if she asked me to be her husband, roses or no. You take your love for granted, and you shouldn't – especially you, Ez. You've seen him almost die how many times now? You've lost him over and over, so you know what it means to be without him."

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Like hell I don't! You'd die for him, you'd kill for him, you'd have his child and heal his wounds and Bond with him to save him from himself, but you won't give him the one thing he's wanted all along, even though it's something that you want too! You assume that he will always love you – and my guess is you're right – but that doesn't mean that he'll always be this willing with you, or this hopeful. Charlie's a strong bloke, but he's not indestructible, and that scene in there cost him dearly."

"Shut the fuck up!" She started crying again, holding both her red face and her belly. Harry squelched the urge to hug her tight and apologize. With her as emotional as she was, it seemed safer to stay at arm's length.

"Look, don't marry him if you don't want to. No one should marry unless they truly want to. And frankly, I don't care much. But, Bonded or not, you two need to learn to communicate, because that–" he said, gesturing back to the Great Hall, "that never should've happened the way it did. You share minds, for casting out loud! How is it possible that you both can send each other into such a tailspin? Haven't you figured out how he thinks by now?"

There was a moment of silence between them that blended into another while Ez just stood there and stared. "Uh…no," she said at last, as if Harry had handed her a revelation. "No, I've never understood why he thinks what he does. It's part of why I…"

"Love him?"

"Left Romania," she said. "He lied to me. He…hid from me, and I never saw it. I couldn't trust him. And more importantly, I couldn't trust him not to get us both killed. You know I almost died – that's not an exaggeration. I was breathing my last breaths, not understanding why, and looking into his eyes knowing that _I was killing him_ – that my death meant his. And I couldn't save him any more than I could save myself." She shook her head, and fresh tears flooded her eyes. She turned away. "The night I left Romania I didn't expect to get as far as I did before he woke up. When the sickness hit, I had already Apparated back to Germany. I thought he'd come after me, but he didn't. He let me go."

"No. He didn't. He looked for you. He told me he spent months looking."

She shook her head, and wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks.

"Ez, when you left after Bill's wedding, Charlie went mental looking for you. I saw it for myself. Day and night. It killed him that you were hiding from him."

"I wasn't hiding from him," she insisted. And then in a smaller voice said, "I was hiding from me. When I left Romania, I left part of me behind. I walked around for years only half alive. Merlin. I can't do that again."

"Ez, you're Bonded to him."

"Yeah. You're right. I don't know what I'm saying. But it feels like it did before, when I made the decision to leave…when I knew that the only way to protect him was to protect myself from him. It feels like that. I feel like I'm dying inside all over again."

"You're not. You're going to have his baby."

"That's what I mean. We've been here before." She looked exhausted, and she exhaled heavily. "You think I should marry him. I know you do. Maybe I should. Maybe I should give up and let him win. Harry…I'm so tired of this fight."

"I don't see what difference it would make. But, I've been told that Charlie's quite sensible when you're not involved. Maybe marriage will ground him when it comes to you."

"He'll stop being a maniac, you mean? I doubt it. You saw what he just pulled. Classic Charlie. I could kill him. Why do I love him? Why couldn't I have loved Percy?"

"Because he's Percy. Because he's not Charlie."

"It makes me the insane one, doesn't it?"

Harry smiled as he held out a hand to her. She reluctantly took it. He placed her fingers in the crook of his arm and led her to the Great Hall doors. "It's going to be all right, you know?"

"Promise?" she asked, almost breathless.

There were no promises in love, Harry knew, but he nodded anyway. He pulled out his wand, and silently opened the doors. Music blared, and students danced, but slowly, as people began to realize that the two of them stood in the massive doorway, heads turned and movements stilled until the band gave up and stopped playing. Everyone stared. Hermione stepped forward, but Ron caught her arm to stop her. Charlie, who had been seated at one of the tables, stood. He stepped carefully out, as if unsure whether he should defend himself or not. His face was a pained mix of hope and regret, and Harry wondered if Ez was talking to him. She didn't look as if she was thinking at all. Students peeled away to make a path between them, and Harry gently pulled Ez down the aisle.

Bill, in handsome purple dress robes, hurried over to Charlie. He looked anxious to marry his brother before another disaster had to be averted.

Once they reached Charlie and his brother, Ez sighed. "So…"

"So," he agreed.

"I'll marry you," she said, almost a whisper. Charlie didn't move, didn't breathe, and Harry's stomach clenched. Was he going to reject her now?

Ez cleared her throat. "W-will you m-marry me?" She gripped Harry's arm with a shaking hand.

Charlie took a deep breath. It could've been relief, or the search for courage. He glanced briefly at Harry, but his eyes flickered back to Ez almost instantly. "I will. Of course I will. Merlin, Mere, you know I will."

"Will you give me back my wand?"

This time he didn't hesitate. Charlie pulled a long, black wand from his robes and offered it up like a rose. She took it from him, allowing her fingers to slide slowly over his in a lingering touch. Their eyes met, emotion flickered over their faces as silent words were exchanged. A shiver wormed up Harry's spine, and that spurred him into action. He took her other hand from his arm and held it out to Charlie, who pulled her close in a desperate sort of embrace, and kissed her. The Hall rippled with a spattering of confused applause.

The actual ceremony was very similar to Bill and Fleur's. When Bill cast the odd magic bubble that encased the bride and groom, Harry let out a sigh of relief. They were married. It was done.

Ginny squeezed Harry's arm. She and Hermione wore twin watery smile. Ron, though, didn't seem to have noticed that his brother had gotten married at all. He stared at Hermione with the oddest of expressions, and Harry wondered if he was about to be sick. When his face finally cleared, Ron slipped his hand into Hermione's. She grinned at him, said something that Harry couldn't hear over the start of the thumping music. She drew her brows together when Ron didn't respond. As he stared at her, the faintly sick look crept back on to his face.

"What's wrong with him?" Ginny asked, having seen where Harry's attention had landed.

"I think he's contemplating marriage."

Ginny laughed. "He's such a…no, never mind. Enough about them. Let's dance, shall we?"

She pulled him out on to the dance floor where Harry caught sight of Bill and Fleur already flailing along side the student body of Hogwarts. The music was loud and fast, and Harry couldn't help but smile as Ginny gave herself over to random dance moves that hopped and bopped and whirled around. He moved his feet and arms too, but Harry was more interested in the girl in front of him than his own body.

She was a sight to behold. Her golden, coppery hair was down and straight, plaited back from her temples and tied with green ribbons. Her eyes were made up, her lips seemed very full, and her cheeks were flush and smooth. Harry tripped a step as his body stirred, and the sexual tingle wormed its way up to curl like a hunger in his belly. Perhaps Harry could find a way to slip out with her for half an hour or so, and find a broom closet.

The song ended, and the room erupted into applause. Harry grabbed her hand, but she resisted his attempts to pull her from the dance floor with a string of playful laughs and jeers. When the next song started Ginny stepped into his arms. A slow dance. Perfect.

She was warm and smelled like flowers. Her head on his shoulder, he held her and swayed, eyes closed, savoring. All the insanity of the day melted away, and all the worry and responsibility, and thoughts of prophecies and Dark Lords and Death Eaters slipped from his mind. Her lips pressed briefly to his neck, and then she whispered a small, "I love you."

He felt it too, that swelling of emotion that could only be love, and he pulled back enough to find her mouth with his. Her hands cupped his face, she kissed him back. Feet stilled, hearts hammered, and his body responded with a defiant surge.

"Erm…Gin…"

He hated to break the kiss, but he had to slow them both down until they found some privacy. She pulled back, breathless and flush, and Harry knew the pink in her cheeks was not entirely due to the dancing.

"What is it about weddings?" she asked absently, her eyes still trained on his mouth.

"Weddings?"

"Remember what we did at Bill's?"

He didn't particularly remember what they'd done at the wedding, but his recollection of the morning after was crystal clear - he'd made her come in her parents' garden. She'd been so lovely, her hair fanning out over the ground, and her dress robes hiked up above her waist. The look on her face as she crested was one he would never forget.

"Merlin, I want to crawl into your head," she said, and the desire in her voice made him twitch. "If you could only see the look on your face."

"I think I'm looking at it," he whispered, staring into her eyes. "Let's go to your room."

A thunderous BANG shook the entire hall, followed by screams and a crash of musical instruments. Harry's wand was out, and his hand went for Ginny, but she was already beyond his grasp with her own wand drawn. There was a panic in the hall, and Harry looked for the source. Charlie held Ez against him, one arm around her middle and the other raised above them holding her hand and wand up. A shower of debris rained down on them as pieces of the magic ceiling finally made it to the floor. They were both still encased inside their bubble of magic, and Claudau stood near the Great Hall's door.

Everything stopped in the room. Tonks had her wand drawn, as did Lupin and Bill and Fleur. Hagrid stood looming near his chair at one of the tables, looking worried and ready for a fight.

Claudau, for his part, didn't seem in the least concerned that, had Charlie's reflexes not been fast enough, he most likely would've been at the receiving end of the bolt that had blown a hole in the roof. His causal stance was mocking.

"You are so like your father," he said to Ez, loud enough for most of the room to hear. "Like a true Wizmere - erratic and violent. A mad little dog that doesn't know enough not to bite the hand that feeds it."

Charlie was whispering something in her ear, something she wasn't happy about, as Headmistress McGonagall hurried forward. "What is it?" she demanded shrilly. "Mr. Weasley, explain this!"

"Misunderstanding," Charlie said quickly.

"Like hell it is! Charlie, if you can't control your pets-"

"Pets?" Claudau scoffed. "You're the animal! Take care, Charliz, or she will eat her own young!"

Ez lunged, and Charlie tightened his hold. "Claudau, this is my wedding!"

"And I wish only to kiss the blushing bride."

"Charlie is mine!"

"He was mine for a time."

"Only because you Seduced him!"

The room shifted, looking to the vampire for his rebuttal. All he offered was a slow, knowing smile.

"What?" Ez shifted against Charlie, and then shoved him away. She glared at her new husband. "What are you saying?"

He met her gaze evenly. When his eyes lowered, Ez's face dropped. "No…"

"Oh, Ézmâreldi. Dear simple, Ézmâreldi. I did not use my powers on Charliz. He came to me willingly – and why would he not? I have never lied to him, never hurt him. I have never abandoned him."

Ez roared as she took aim, and this time Charlie didn't stop her. A series of spells shot from her wand, exploding against the vampire's chest in a fountain of deadly magic. Claudau ended up on the floor, arms outstretched, and red eyes staring sightless up at the ceiling.

The silence in the Hall was absolute. Then, someone whispered, "She's killed him."

"No, I haven't," she said aloud. "And whoever that was had better not be in my Defense class. We covered the five ways to kill a Vampire back in January. Does anyone recall what they are?" She didn't take her eyes off Claudau's lifeless form as she lectured, and Charlie didn't take his troubled eyes off her.

"One, decapitation. Two, direct sunlight – and Mr. Macmillian, under what specific condition does direct sunlight effect a vampire?"

When he didn't answer right away Ez put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently. "Mr. Macmillian? Do you need an engraved invitation? I asked under what condition–"

"Starvation!" Ernie called out from the other side of the room.

Ez almost smiled. "Thank you! And correct. Three, death by fire."

"Mere." Charlie stood not even a foot behind her, still caught inside the magic field that enveloped them. But, Ez whirled around and put as much distance between them as she could. "Mere, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out this way."

"No! You don't get to talk! You had your chance to explain, and you chose not to."

"Mere."

"No!" She turned away from him. "Fuck."

Claudau began to stir. One of his pale hands flopped on to his chest. It encountered the smoking hole. He coughed and then rolled on to his side. Ez watched him sit up, watched him stand, but she didn't raise her wand again; her arms hung limply at her sides as if she didn't have the energy to attack. She looked drained, beaten. Charlie looked on the verge of tears, and Harry didn't know which frightened him more.

"Mere," Charlie said quietly again. She didn't respond.

When Claudau finally stood, he stretched his spine straight and then looked pointedly at Ez. He smiled. A chill went down Harry's spine.

"Why did you come here?" Charlie asked Claudau. "This is my wedding. My _wedding_."

All humor faded from the vampire's face. "Charliz, my friend, this is a farce. Vows mean nothing to this witch. She has no loyalties. You know her as well as I. She will only break your heart again. We both know it to be true."

"No," Charlie insisted.

"She will leave you, just as she has left you, just as she has turned on her family. And when that happens, you will come for me again, just as you have before."

"No!" This time it was Ez who answered with fury in her dark eyes. "Charlie is mine now. He's mine! And Hogwarts is our home, and you are no longer welcome here!"

Claudau threw back his head and let out a piercing howl. He snarled, baring his fangs and grey tongue before leaping into the air. He rose above their heads, in silent wingless flight.

"Charliz," he called with a harsh quality to his normally smooth voice. "My dear Charliz, my friend, you have only to ask. When she kills your soul, I will save you." And then he disappeared through the hole in the Great Hall's roof.

"Four," Ez said, as if lecturing once again, though Harry could plainly see that her heart really wasn't it in. "Four is, of course, to seek refuge in a place you consider home. Why do I say this to be a flaw in your text books? Anyone? Anyone at all? Come on, people. Someone must have paid attention in class. Miss Granger?"

Hermione glanced anxiously to Ron, who was still staring at the hole in the canopy of trees overhead. She cleared her throat. "Well, I…four? You said four shouldn't count as it doesn't actually kill a vampire. It just keeps them at a distance…unless you invite them in."

"Exactly. And it's tacky to uninvited someone," Ez said almost lightly. "But then, when they're terrible guests you can hardly fault the host for a little rudeness."

"Mere."

She ignored him. "And the fifth way to kill a vampire?"

"You stake 'em," Seamus called. There was a murmur of approval from several of the boys nearest him, but Charlie's stern glance quickly squelched it.

"Yes. The stake. It's clean and fast, and permanent. Permanent is important."

"Mere."

She turned to face Charlie, eyes set, expression as neutral as Harry had ever seen it. "Number five has always been my favorite." And then, from out of her robes she pulled a thick, wooden stake and held it up for Charlie to see. "A stake through the heart. Appropriate, don't you think?"

"Mere."

"What?" The word came out on a sob, and she hastily covered her mouth to keep from spilling out even more emotion.

"I didn't mean for you to find out this way."

"This way? You mean in front of my students and your parents, at our wedding? Or from your vampire lover?"

"You know it's not like that," he said wearily. "Mere, please. Not here. Not now."

She glared at him for a moment, and then glanced at the gawking onlookers. "Fine. Feed me. I'm hungry."

When they sat down at a table, students began to move and talk again, and eventually the band began to play. Ron, Hermione and Ginny stood close to Harry, none of them able to brush off the scene they'd just witnessed.

Ginny, stunned, shook her head. "Charlie and…Claudau?"

Ron stepped closer. "No. I don't believe it. Not Charlie. He's no poof."

"But you heard–" Ginny began.

"Charlie's no poof!"

Hermione crossed her arms. "Of course he's not. But even if he was, vampires can't have sex. Not physically. They Seduce, but it's not really about sex so much as, well, biting. It's about blood. The innate magical power a vampire has is called Seduction because people describe the feeling as similar to being in love…and the bite is supposed to feel like an orgasm."

Ron smirked, but tried to hide it.

"It didn't feel like that to me," Harry said, as he gave in involutary roll of his shoulder. "And anyway, Claudau said he didn't Seduce Charlie."

"No…no, if Claudau didn't Seduce Charlie, then…"

"Charlie let that vampire bite him of his own free will." Ron looked a little green as he said it. "But…why? Why would he do that? I mean, yeah, that bird makes him mental, but to let a vampire bite him – that's…that's _really_ mental!"

"Maybe he wanted to become a vampire," Ginny suggested, none too happy at the thought.

"Why the bloody hell would he want that?" Ron cried. He glanced anxiously over his shoulder at his brother and his new wife, both pushing food around full plates, but neither really eating. They didn't look like they were talking, either. Not even through their Bond. "No. I don't believe it."

"Well…if it was right after Ez left him, right after the Break," Ginny said slowly, thoughtfully, "I think I can understand a little. I mean, the only thing that kept me going when Harry and I were going through the Break was the knowledge that I would see Harry again soon, and that we could reconnect. But if Harry had gone for good, I don't know what I would've done. It was horrible."

And Harry knew that Charlie had also been grieving, not just Ez, but also their unborn child. He would've been devastated.

"Would you have gone and let a vampire bite you? On purpose?" Ron challenged.

"I reckon I might have done just about anything to make the pain stop," Ginny admitted.

"Nothing hurts that much," Ron dismissed.

"Hermione's fall hurt that much," Harry quietly reminded him.

Ron's face went dark, and his gaze dropped to the floor.

Someone stumbled into Harry's shoulder, and Neville offered a distracted, "Sorry mate," before he looked back down at his feet and tried to mimic the steps his pretty partner was showing him.

"Harry," Ginny said, leaning in to him. "Let's dance, shall we?"

He slipped his arm around her waist, and Ron melted into the crowd with Hermione on his arm. The song was fast and loud, and Harry quickly lost himself to the silliness of flailing about in time to the rhythm. They dance and laughed, and were still going strong five songs later. Ginny taught him a couple of dance moves, and then, once the music slowed, they decided to get some drinks. Over a shared cup of strawberry juice, they chuckled together as they watched a playful Ron and Hermione, and then Neville and the Hufflepuff girl on the dance floor.

"She's called Ramona," Ginny said, as she leaned against his shoulder. "With Neville. She's pretty, isn't she? Look how happy she makes him. He's smiled all night."

"Ramona," Harry said to himself. "Right."

"Tonks looks happy, too."

Harry glanced over to where she gestured, and found Tonks and Lupin dancing close and slow. They didn't seem to notice that there were other people in the room; their eyes were so full of each other, their smiles so wonderfully relaxed. He held her hand over his heart. For his part Lupin did look every bit the wizard in love. Had he held Sirius like that? The thought left Harry feeling strange.

"Maybe he's bi after all," Harry muttered.

"And, maybe it doesn't matter," Ginny said. "Maybe love is gender blind."

"I don't know about that. I can't see myself ever falling for a bloke."

"Not even if he was me?" Ginny looked so completely serious that Harry had to laugh.

"Ginny, luv, you're about as far from a bloke-"

"So's Ez. And still…the Charm doesn't work the way you think it's going to," she said in a sing-song. "She became a bloke for a couple hours."

"It's hardly the same thing!" Harry insisted.

"So, if the Charm gave me a cock and swallowed up my breasts, and my voice went deep and masculine, you'd still bag me?"

This time Harry didn't laugh. He stared at her, waiting for her to tell him she was kidding. "Er…what?"

"Charlie slept with Ez when she was a man. Hermione told me about the Charm backfiring, and about what Charlie let slip about it. And Lupin sleeps with Tonks even though she's a woman-"

"Because he's a bi-sexual," Harry insisted.

"Or, perhaps it's simpler than that. Perhaps specific gender isn't so terribly important when love is involved."

Harry shook his head, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off his girlfriend. "So, you're saying if I was turned into a girl – completely, from head to foot–"

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

"You'd do me?"

"And twice on Sunday."

Harry swallowed trying to imagine it. Ginny touching round breasts, Ginny touching a female belly, female thighs, kissing another girl's lips…a girl's large, pink nipple…

"Harry, my face is up here," she said, and pointed from her chest to her nose.

He felt the heat in his cheeks, but he didn't care. "Have you done it before? With a girl?" With someone he knew? His mind began to whirl. Had she touched Hermione?

"Now don't be ridiculous. Of course not. But, that's not to say that I wouldn't, provided the right person, and the right situation. Just as this is the right person and situation for Lupin, and when the Charm transfigured Ez, it was the right person and the right situation for Charlie."

Harry's gaze drifted over to him and Ez, now sitting on opposite sides of a small couch that Professor McGonagall had conjured for them. Their magical bubble twinkled away, keeping the two of them within arm's reach. Ez dozed against the arm of the couch, a hand draped over her rounding middle while Charlie watched the room celebrate for him. He didn't look right, Harry thought. Certainly not like a groom on his wedding night. How much damage had Claudau caused? More than the hole in the roof, that was for sure.

"I'm with Ron. I just can't see Charlie with a bloke. He's too…"

"It was Ez, Harry."

Or Claudau. "Yeah, well."

"She was a person he loved and was committed to. The physical was secondary."

"I just don't see how."

She sighed and laced her arm through his as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. "Never mind. I suppose I just find it worrisome that if I had happened to be born a boy, I never would've been able to kiss you. Because boy or girl, Harry, I can't imagine not loving you."

"Oh, come now. If you were a bloke, you'd have your eye on that bird over there," he teased nodding to Neville's date. Her curly hair bounced like ribbons as they danced and laughed. "You said you thought she was pretty."

"She is pretty, but she wouldn't be my type."

"You have a type, then?" Harry asked, glancing at her. It was something he never really considered about her, though, perhaps…Luna had said something to that effect, hadn't she? Comparing Harry to Ernie, and all Harry might've been had he had the childhood Ernie had had.

"I'd need someone brave, wouldn't I?" Ginny said, and then yawned.

They had to wait until three when Bill would finish the Transverse Spell. Just a couple more hours. He touched her neck, exposed as she rested against him. Smooth and warm. He wanted to touch her everywhere. He wanted to look at her naked and stretched out on a bed. He yawned in echo, and then steered his thoughts back to their conversation.

"Brave, eh? Brave _and_ clever, I would expect," Harry said, with a mock haughty voice. "Someone dashing."

"No, if she was a girl, she'd have to be practical, because if I was a boy, no doubt I'd be a natural idiot. I'd need her to keep me in line."

"You're talking about Hermione and Ron."

She smiled. "I'd do Hermione."

Harry laughed, but his brain nearly exploded. "There was a time when you hated me for thoughts far more innocent than that. But really? Hermione?" _Had_ she touched her? Even innocently? Curiously? Why was that so…hot?

"Oh, don't give me that. You'd do Hermione, too."

And with that one casual phrase, Harry's blood ran cold. She was trying to trip him up. "No. She's Ron's."

"And if she wasn't?"

"Come on, Ginny. Don't do this."

She sat up then. "I know you find her attractive. You like her chest."

Harry snorted. "That's not a reach. I'm a bloke. There's not a chest in this room I don't like."

"And, you two are close. If Ron hadn't screwed up the courage to ask her out-"

"No, Ginny. Just…no."

"So, you're saying that you wouldn't do Hermione under any circumstances? Even though she's already a girl? Why do I find that hard to believe?"

Harry closed his eyes. Did she want a fight? "Look, if you and I…if we weren't together, and if Ron had never shown any interest in her at all, and…well, if something _were_ to have happen between me and Hermione…it would be a mistake. A terrible mistake. And it would ruin our friendship because it would never last. It couldn't possibly."

"Why not? How do you know? Your friendship has lasted long enough."

"Because she's not you, Ginny. Because the way I feel about her, as much as I care for her and trust her and depend on her, it's nothing compared to what I feel for you. And if what you and I have is love, and I know that it is, then what she and I have could never be. It's grand, my friendship with Hermione, but only real love would keep someone with me for any length of time, I reckon. I'm a lousy boyfriend, and my life is dangerous. It's not much to offer a girl."

"You have a lot to offer, Harry. A lot. Never doubt that." She sighed. "But I know what you mean about loving you. If anyone else had put me through what you did, I would've hexed him and been done with it. It has to be love, doesn't it? That's our proof."

"You would've hexed him and been done with it? Not her?" Harry teased.

"Oh, Hermione never would've done that to me."

Harry laughed. "You're trying to put sexy thoughts into my head, you are. Vixen."

"Perhaps," she admitted, and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Though, I can't help but look at them and wonder." She narrowed her eyes, and Harry followed her gaze to Charlie and Ez on the couch. "Charlie and Ez I can understand, even if she was a bloke. But Charlie and that vampire…"

"Vampire sex. That's got to be painful."

"I don't know…" she said in a way that told Harry she was thinking about it. "Perhaps it was sex after all. I know Hermione said they can't, but Ez's hate for Claudau is a bit intense."

The thought was so distasteful that Harry closed his eyes and kissed the top of Ginny head. "I don't want to think about it."

Ginny sighed. "Me neither. I'm off to the loo. Dance with me again when I come back?"

"You look beautiful tonight," Harry told her as she stood. She smiled, ran her fingers through his hair as she left.

For a moment Harry watched the dwindling couples on the dance floor sway in time to the ballad the Wicked Sisters were churning out. Ron and Hermione were involved in a leisurely exploration of lips and tongues as their feet slowly shuffled in circles. Bill and Fleur danced past them and chuckled, and then exchanged their own prolonged kiss. Charlie saw this and smiled as well, but still seemed solemn, melancholy.

Harry went to him, pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat down. "Hi."

"Hiya, Harry."

"Can I fetch you a drink or something? Pumpkin juice?"

"I'm good. Thanks." Harry nodded, and glanced at Ez still curled against the arm of the couch. "How's she, then?"

"Sleeping. I should've waited until the morning. I know she can't stay awake all night now. The baby really taps her strength."

"Are things going to be all right?"

Charlie shook his head. "I don't know. Merlin's beard, Harry, this isn't exactly how I picture this day being, you know? I thought something at the Burrow. Something fun. And instead I've given her this," he said, motioning to the room. "It wouldn't have been so bad without the carrying her in part, I think. Well, and Claudau." He looked up at the ceiling - once again a full canopy of trees. "Professor Flitwick did a good job mending it, don't you think?"

"Why did Claudau come in here tonight?"

"No idea." But of course, he did. "He was upset, I reckon. He wanted to hurt me. Managed all right, didn't he? He knew how it would end, though."

"That you'd chose Ez over him?"

"That I always do." He gazed at the witch beside him, ran the outside of his smallest finger against her thigh. "Claudau does like a bit of drama, and Mere has never failed him at that. I expect this was the only way he could say good-bye."

Ez gasped and lunged forward, eyes wide and unfocused, and "Charlie!" on her lips.

"I'm here," he said, grabbing her outstretched hand, pulling her out of her dream. She grabbed at her chest with her other hand, as if that could calm her heart. Then her eyes dropped down, and her gaze landed on her left ring finger.

"Oh, fuck," she muttered, "it wasn't a nightmare." Her face crumpled. "We're married."

Her eyes flooded when he nodded. He held her gaze. Charlie brushed a dark lock back from her face, lifted her chin. He gently kissed the inside of her palm, the inside of her wrist. He pulled her closer. "I love you, Esmerelda Weasley," he said, earning him a watery grin. "Esmerelda, Esmerelda, Esmerelda, you are so beautiful. Forgive me."

"You are mine," she whispered. "Mine, mine, mine…" She threw herself into his arms, and tears rolled down Charlie's cheeks. Then she began to kiss him – his neck, his jaw, and when she got to his mouth Harry decided he'd seen enough.

He found Ginny on her way back in, and she led him to the dance floor to join the scant handful of other couples slowly moving to the soulful ballad. Harry held her close, and closed his eyes when her arms twisted tighter around him. She dropped her head to his shoulder again, and he pressed his cheek against hers.

"I love you," he whispered. "Bloke or bird, I love you, Ginny."

When the clock in the tower finally chimed three, Charlie and Ez made their way back to the platform, and Bill began the final stage of the Transcendence Spell. Slowly the magic bubble began to shrink around them. The way they looked at each other as the magic sank into their skin gave Harry a tremendous sense of well-being. If not all had been forgiven yet, they were certainly still very much in love.

"Look at her face," Ginny said on a sigh. "Oh, Harry, she loves him so." She squeezed his arm.

"Do you think they'll be all right, then?"

"I think…I think the vampire was right. She'll break his heart again. But, looking at him now, how could it not be worth it?"

"So, love is worth the pain?"

"You were worth it. And, I'd say that look on Charlie's face right now is worth everything. Wouldn't you?"


	32. Chapter 31 Brick Wall

Part 3 - Spring

Chapter 31 – Brick Wall

Her neck was warm and soft beneath his lips, and her pulse throbbed as he flicked his tongue over it. A hitch in her breath encouraged him, and he kissed her again and again as he slowly thrust inside her. Her fingers ran over his back in slow, caressing motions; her legs curled up and around his middle. They weren't being quiet, but in the Room of Requirements they didn't need to worry.

She moved beneath him, kept time with him, encouraging and welcoming all at once. She smelled of flowers and sex, a heady combination, and one that kept him sucking on her warm, sweet flesh. Her nails grazed the back of his neck, his scalp, combed through his hair in a way that made his spine tingle and his hips pump faster. She pulled his mouth up to hers, held his head, and kissed him deeply.

Her eyes sparkled when he pulled back enough to look at her. The room was lit with a hundred candles, and it made her look like a golden goddess. Her smile was intoxicating, her breasts divine.

"What're you looking at?" She smiled.

"You."

"Hmmm," she hummed. "Just don't stop."

He gave her a playful thrust, and she bit her lip. He did it again, and her breasts jiggled so wonderfully. He took her wrist and pushed it up above her head, and the side of her right breast became more defined. He bent and kissed her pale nipple, teasing the pucker with his teeth and tongue. His hips worked, but only absently – it was the feel of her breast in his mouth and the sounds that she mewled as he suckled that held his attention. Her hands went to his head again, her hips bucked in earnest, and a wonderful panting whine filled his ears.

"Oh, shit…"

That's what she said when the pressure at her core began to build. He was pushing her toward climax, and he loved every moment of it. He released her arm so he could cup her breast to plump it. Her hand snaked down between them. He lifted a bit to give her access, and then watched as her finger slipped inside that curly cleft. She clenched, stars burst behind Harry's eyelids. He abandoned her breast to lift her thigh up and out, pushing her farther open so he could see what she was doing where their bodies joined.

He barely moved – he wasn't far in, and he didn't want to accidentally slip out of her – but her hips rocked and her fingers fluttered. Pink and wet and ginger curls, open as she was, she was an exotic flower. He nipped at her taunt nipple, and then looked back down. He wished he could be in her head when she touched herself. He wanted her to know how sexy she was.

"Oh…oh, shit…"

Her eyes screwed shut, and the veins in her neck stood out as she strained for release. When it washed over her she relaxed, and Harry rolled on her and began to furiously thrust. They both loved the feel of him fucking her as she rode the waves of pleasure down, and his pelvic bone continued to pound against her sensitized core. Her body clutched him, drew him deeper with each convulsion until Harry's own crest was within sight. He latched on to her neck again, and felt her nails on his bum. Sprinting the last stretch, he dropped into her waiting arms as he spilled over. He drained in spurts of ecstasy, floated on breasts and thighs. It was her kisses, feather light at his temple, that slowly brought him back to his heavy, sated body, humming with pleasure.

"I love you," slipped from his lip as he rolled to one side. He reached for her breast. She giggled.

"You always say that after," she happily chided.

He squeezed her nipple and it tightened again. He cupped her. "I always feel it after."

"Yeah. I know what you mean." She played with his fringe, his head cushioned on her thin shoulder. Her nipple was prominent and standing straight up. "Like the view?"

Harry smiled. "I could look at it all day."

"Can't," she said with another giggle, and then yawned deeply, thrusting her breast into the air. "I've got Double Potions in…" She lifted Harry's wrist and squinted at his watch. "Ten minutes! Bloody hell!"

Harry tried to stop her, but she wriggled out of his arms with a playful laugh. His heart danced at the sound, and he found himself laughing with her. Flat on his back, naked and rubbery, Harry laughed so hard his side cramped.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, stepping into her knickers. "Harry? Have you gone loony?"

Gasping and smiling he rolled his head from side to side. "I love you, Ginny. And…and Charlie and Ez are together, and Tonks and Lupin, and Ron and Hermione…and we're all healthy and safe. And with everything that's happened, with everything that will happen, the only thing I've got to do right now is lie here and watch you put your clothes on."

He rolled on to his side, propped himself up on an elbow, and smirked as Ginny's gaze slipped down to his lap. "Are you happy?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, slipping her jeans up over her hips. Her full breasts bobbed deliciously.

Harry flopped back, his semi firming again. "I don't think I've ever been so happy. Ever." He reached out a hand to her, and naked from the waist up, she leaned over and took it. Her breast swayed. Harry reeled her in.

He pulled her close enough to kiss her, and his hand slipped up her arm to her breast. He cupped it. She deepened the kiss, slowly teased his tongue with hers, and made small squeaking noises when his thumb rubbed her nipple.

"I've got class," she complained between kisses. "And so do you."

He kissed his way down her throat.

"You are going to class, aren't you?" she asked, her voice breathy, and her words halting as he found the sensitive points between ear and collarbone. He squeezed her. "Mmm…Harry, you're trying to change the subject."

He ran his cheek between her breasts, and then kissed his way to one hard nipple. She moaned when he sucked it into his mouth. Her fingers played with the back of his head, encouraging the play of his tongue even as she asked, "What will Hermione say if you don't show? They'll…oh, shit…they'll worry. Ron will…he'll think…he'll think you've…oh, Harry, we've just done it. You can't possibly want another go."

But he did. He was hard again, and the smell of her skin filled his head with want. He worked the button at her waist while he teased her breast until she stilled his hand.

"As much as I'd love to spend the whole day in your arms…Harry, stop." She pulled away, a suppressed smile lighting her eyes.

He let his arm drop dramatically, and gave an exaggerated groan. "I don't suppose begging would help."

She laughed, and her whole face transformed, much the way Charlie's did. But Ginny's face was pure beauty even when scowling, and when she smile – when she laughed – Harry's heart twisted so tight he thought he might die…or laugh for joy.

"What's so funny?" she asked. She twisted her arms behind her back to fasten her bra.

"You're happy, aren't you, Gin?"

"I told you yes."

"I mean, really, really happy."

She stopped, shirt bunched around her neck, and looked at him for a long moment. Then a smile as wide as Harry had ever seen lit her face. "You're mad with sex."

"No, Ginny. Do I make you happy?"

Her brows drew together as she tugged her shirt into place. "Of course."

She wasn't taking him seriously. Harry glanced down at his naked body, and decided he didn't blame her. He pulled a blanket over himself, and she giggled. He loved the sound.

"When I was growing up, I never really thought about being happy," Harry told her. His trousers were on the floor by the large, brass candelabra held by a stone griffin statue. The Room of Requirements had odd ideas about what was required for a mid-morning tryst.

"You mean when you were living with the Dursleys?"

Harry nodded. "And then, when I came to Hogwarts, that changed. I met Ron and Hermione – I had friends for the first time, and I didn't have to worry about Dudley and Uncle Vernon. But, there was Voldemort, and Draco. And Snape. But I had Dumbledore, and then Sirius, and things seemed…I don't know."

"Are you happy, Harry?" Ginny asked. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"Sirius is dead, and Dumbledore. And Voldemort is still out there, and I've got to be the one to do him in, and I haven't the faintest how I'm going to do that, or when. Or even if I can."

"So…you're not happy?"

"That's just it. I am. Sirius is gone – and that hurt. And then Dumbledore – I thought…" He thought he'd never be happy again. He thought the darkness of that loss would always weigh in his soul. "You make me happy, Gin. I've got Ron and Hermione, and a safe place here at Hogwarts – at least for the immediate future – and I've got you. You make me happy. It sounds so pathetic when I say it."

"It sounds lovely," she assured, sitting beside him on the huge bed. "I'm glad I make you happy." She touched his bare chest, and kissed him; and their mouths teased for a couple of moments that slowly stretched into minutes. When he tried to deepen the kisses, she pulled away.

"I still say it's too much sex," she quipped, jumping up from the bed, "but I'm glad you're happy."

"I want to make you happy. As happy as you make me – more, though I'm not certain that's even possible. I want you to know how brilliant you are, Ginny, and how brilliant you make me feel, and I want you to feel it, too. I want to do that for you. I want you to be so happy you think you might die from it. I want…Ginny…I want…I want you to be happy. "

Her smile was broad, and her eyes glittered with moisture in the candle light. "I am," she whispered, hoarse and tight with emotion. "I love you."

"I love you," Harry told her.

"All right. One more time." She whipped her shirt up over her head. "But then we go to class!"

* * *

"Mr. Potter?"

Headmistress McGonagall sat at her desk, quill in hand, looking at him from over her cat-eyed spectacles. "Is there something you need?"

"I…if you have a moment, Professor, I have some questions about my parents."

She pursed her lips, but then set her quill aside and motioned for him to take the chair opposite her. "I had thought I'd explained that I didn't really know James or Lily very well."

"When did they get married?"

"Well, certainly after they graduated Hogwarts."

"So, you didn't go to their wedding?"

"I didn't even realize they were still together until I heard they they'd gone into hiding with you. I knew they were with the Order, of course, but only in the vaguest sense."

"Professor Dumbledore told you?"

"That, I did," said a hauntingly familiar voice. Harry's breath caught, and his heart skipped a beat and then hammered to catch up. "Oh, dear. I've startled you."

For a moment it felt like time stopped all together. Something like hope bloomed inside Harry, so deep and small it wasn't until his eyes slipped up to the portrait behind the Headmistress' desk that Harry realized it was there. Because when he saw Dumbledore sitting in his frame, painted in his Headmaster's chair, Harry felt that buried pinprick of hope explode into a thousand shards of ice.

"Hullo, Harry."

Of course, Dumbledore would be a painting – all the past Headmasters were. Somehow, though, the possibility hadn't occurred to Harry. He sat dumbstruck and shaking while his heart hammered.

"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Are you quite all right?"

All right? How could he be all right? Blue eyes twinkled down at him, just as they had since he first stepped foot at Hogwarts. It was all he could do to remind himself it wasn't really Dumbledore sitting there, watching him expectantly, and it had been foolish to hope.

"I say," Dumbledore chuckled. "I really have startled him. Perhaps you could offer him some tea, Minerva."

"Of course. Milk and sugar?" She waved her wand, and the teapot on the cart near the fireplace began to pour two cups.

"Yes, to both, if I remember correctly," the painting of Dumbledore said.

Tea. They were talking about tea while Harry's heart pounded. He felt like he might jump out of his skin when Dumbledore's painting produced his own cup of tea. There were so many more important things to discuss, so many things Harry needed to know.

Harry took the offered cup without thinking about it and stared down at his reflection in the unsteady surface. Hadn't Professor Trelawney taught a class on seeing the future reflected in Earl Grey? Or had it been Chamomile?

"See anything interesting?" Dumbledore asked, as if he expected that Harry would.

"How much do you know?" Harry asked slowly, quietly, not certain that now he'd found his voice he'd be able to keep it. There was a large lump at the back of his throat that threatened to choke him.

"I beg your pardon," the Headmistress said, a clear reprimand.

It wasn't until then that Harry realized his tone had been angry and demanding. And then he realized that he was, indeed, angry. Seething, he pointed to the painting. "How much do you know?"

The painted Dumbledore didn't seem to take offense. Instead he sucked on his cheek and sat back considering Harry, much the same way the real Dumbledore might've done. "Quite a bit, I'm afraid. And still, not as much as you would like."

"You know about the Horcruxes?"

"Some."

"Tell me."

Painted Dumbledore raised a hand to quiet Harry. "You know I cannot."

"You know, and won't tell me? You won't help? What are the remaining Horcruxes? Where are they? How do I destroy them?"

"Mr. Potter, you will keep your seat, and your tongue civil," the Headmistress snapped.

"Harry, I will of course tell you what I can," Dumbledore's portrait said. "But there are a surprisingly large number of topics that I'm not permitted to speak about."

"Permitted by whom?"

"Ah! Another excellent question, and one I'm afraid I cannot answer. But you were asking the Headmistress about your parents."

"My parents?" He was going into battle with the most powerful evil wizard on the planet and Dumbledore wanted to regale him with stories about his parents? "Tell me how to defeat Voldemort!"

"Mr. Potter! You will not use that name-"

"I'm sorry, Harry. But I cannot help you."

"You left me! You left me on the ramparts, and you let yourself get killed!"

"Oh, my dear Harry. I was dying already."

"So, it's true then? What Snape said – it's all true?"

"There are things you don't yet understand."

"_Because you won't explain them!_ You never told me what I needed to know! You purposely kept me in the dark, and then you left me! And Snape…Snape…" His vision blurred, and his chest ripped open, and suddenly the wound that had healed over was now screaming in agony once more. His face went red-hot. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "_YOU LEFT ME!_"

Harry bolted out of the Headmistress' office. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see. He ran down the corridor, and then forced himself against the wall behind a statue to collect himself. The corridors were still peppered with students and he didn't want anyone to know that he'd just lost it – and in front of Professor McGonagall. Mortification warred with anger in his belly, and Harry shoved a fist to his head to stop the throb. The blinding blast came out of nowhere, and speared his head right between his eyes.

_Harry,_ hissed the voice, _is that you? Ah…it is…_

He shoved with everything that he had in him, and pushed Voldemort from his mind. The effort left his legs trembling, and he collapsed to the floor, his back against the wall. He gasped for air.

_Harry?_ It was Ez's cool presence in his head. _Fuck, Harry, what happened?_

_I pushed him out._

_Where are you?_

He didn't know. The floor was cold beneath him and the wall was cold behind him, and still Harry thought he might burst into flames. He needed air, and possibly to be sick.

Gathering his strength, Harry pushed himself up from the floor and staggered to the next corridor, no longer caring that the other students could see him. He climbed the stairs, one at a time, his head still cloudy, and his heart drumming in his head.

_Harry, lie down. I'll find you._

_Leave me alone._ He tried to push her out, but the Fist couldn't find her. _I don't want you in my head. I don't want anyone in my head. Just leave me alone._

Another corridor, and then he was looking up at the Astronomy Tower stairs, curling and spiraling along the walls all the way to the top. He was too tired, and he told himself just that as his feet began to climb. His lungs worked, and sweat dripped down his neck. By the time he got to the top, all he felt was exhausted. He threw the door open and greeted the white light, the cold air, the power of the wind against him.

Harry stood on the battlement looking down over the grounds. The sky was a grey so pale as to be white, and the trees stood dark and still against the white snow backdrop. Even the Black Lake had frozen over, and was now reduced to a flat stretch of white. Where was Spring? Where was the thaw?

The wind was brutal at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Harry tucked his robes tight around himself, and pulled his school scarf up a little higher to cover his nose and ears. He braced himself against the frozen stone wall. Dumbledore had died here.

"Harry?" Hermione stepped out from the door, looking worried. "You didn't make it to Defense, are you all right? Ez sent me after you. She was in a bit of a state. I thought maybe you'd been attacked by Voldemort, or something."

"I'm all right," he told her. "It's cold up here. Go back to class."

"Come to class with me," she urged. "Harry? Do you need the infirmary? Shall I fetch Madame Pomfrey?"

"Honestly, I'm good."

But she wasn't having any of it. "What is it, Harry? Tell me. What worried Ez so badly?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. I just need to stand here for a while."

"I could stand with you." She smiled hopefully when he glanced at her, her hair flying every which way, and her cheeks already a bright pink.

"I need to be alone, thanks. No, don't look at me like that. Not alone, alone. Just…I'm fine. There's no reason to worry. I just – I need to stand here."

She looked down at the flagstones under his feet, and then over the battlements to the ground below. She knew what had happened here, almost as well as he did.

"You miss him."

"I miss him," Harry agreed. "It never stops. I think it's better, and then…then I see his portrait, and it's happened all over again."

Hermione stepped next to him and rested her hand against his on the rampart crenellation. She gazed over the grounds with him, and her eyes landed on the mound of snow next to the lake. Dumbledore's monument sat patiently underneath it, waiting for the warmth Spring promised. She sighed.

"So, you saw his portrait? How does it look?"

He shook his head. "It's not him. It looks like him and sounds like him – but it's not him. It's just a painting. I wanted it to be him. I thought, just for an instant…"

"Oh, Harry."

"I've been trying to think what he would say if he were really here," he said quietly, hesitantly, not really wanting to share this piece of himself, but feeling compelled to speak. "What he would say about me and Ginny, about McGonagall as Headmistress, about this wasted year. There are moments when I can almost hear his voice in my head, and there are times when I can't quite remember what he sounded like. The painting was too real, and not real enough, and still I feel like I'm losing him again."

"And so you came here? To where he died?"

"This is where he's most real for me," he told her. She stepped closer to him, and he felt her cold curls tickle his cheek. Her presence soothed him, as did her silence. She didn't try to tell him that she knew how he felt, because she didn't. But she was willing to stand there in the cold, and let him hurt. "Hermione, I don't want to forget him like I did my parents."

"You won't. You won't ever forget him. Professor Dumbledore will always be a part of you, for better or worse."

"And Voldemort too, I reckon."

"And Ron, and Ginny and me. Just like you're a part of us."

"For better or worse, eh?" he teased. And then a wave of grief washed over him again. "I miss him. It was all so much easier when he was here."

"Yeah. It was. I miss him, too."

* * *

Harry was on his back, on the green mat, in the middle of the Defense classroom. His shoes were off, and the mat was cold, and is nose itched.

"You're not concentrating."

"I need the loo."

He heard Ez sigh dramatically. She was sitting somewhere above his head. "You're the one who asked for this."

"I know, I know."

He went back to imaging a brick wall. "Why brick? Why not steel? Or crème fresh?"

"_'Oh, Ez, won't you please help me?'_" she implored, dropping her Canadian accent in favor of a mock falsetto. "_'My mind is like an open door!'_"

"I do not sound like that."

"Harry, I'm tired. If you're not going to do this-"

"I am! Just…all right. A brick wall."

"Never mind. Sit up. Let's try something else."

She was still in the chair, her legs crossed, looking mildly annoyed. Dark shadows circled her eyes, and Harry felt a little guilty. "You're right. This is a waste of time. Let's call it a night."

_I don't look that bad_, she thought.

_It's late._

_And I'm in your head. You're right. Your mind is like an open door. You're ridiculously easy to Read._

_So, how do I close the door? And don't say think about a brick wall. I've been doing that for an hour._

_A whole hour? Poor you. You must be exhausted._

_It doesn't make sense to me. How does thinking about a wall keep Voldemort out?_

_The same way your imagined fist pushes him out._

"Oh. Right. It's the same thing."

"It's a place to start. Look, Harry, you've got some ability in Occlumency, and even more as a Legilimens, but it's never going to be easy for you. You started too late, and quite frankly, I'm not sure it would've made that much difference. You're just not naturally gifted that way."

"But…but I can do Flanigan's Fist."

"Remember that part about _some_ ability? And some is more than most. But my point, Harry, is that it's going to take a lot of work. A lot. But, for what it's worth, I think you're right. The sheer number of attacks that you experienced in Romania proves your close proximity theory."

"And, if I'm going to fight him, at some point I'm going to have to get close to him."

"Agreed."

"I have to be able to shield my mind."

"Right-o."

"And…on the train I was able to see through to him without him knowing. If I can control this better – be sure he can't get in – I could us the link to spy on-"

"Listen, Harry, that brings up something I've been meaning to mention." She looked serious as she picked a piece of lint from her robes. "Hermione."

"Hermione? What about her?"

"There was a reason I sent her and Percy back through the stone circle that morning we went to Poenari. It would've been dangerous to have her stay."

"Dangerous? But…you've seen her fight. And that Double Shield Spell–"

"Harry, she Broadcasts. If she had gotten close enough to the castle, to my grandmother, we never would've gotten in the door. You and Ron wouldn't have had time to Apparate out."

A chill went through Harry. "You'll teach her about the brick wall, too."

"Her mind doesn't work that way."

"You said Hermione and Ron were my greatest assets!"

"And they are."

"Not if she's bloody giving us away!"

His mind reeled, his gut churned, and Harry tried to see some way out. Ez sat quietly, watching him, waiting for him to see the obvious. And Harry did see it. He understood what she was saying, but he wasn't about to accept it. "No. I need her with me. There has to be a way."

Ez stood, and with her hands poised on her lower back she stretched. "Practice imagining a brick wall. We'll pick up here tomorrow."

* * *

"Harry? What is it?" Ginny's pretty face greeted him as he turned from the bank of windows. She had her arms full of books.

Beside her Luna gave Harry a sedate smile. "Hullo, Harry."

Harry nodded his greeting.

"You're still brooding," Ginny grimly observed. "It's been weeks, Harry. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He'd said it a hundred times, and she hadn't believed him once. Ginny was a smart girl, and she knew him better than he liked at the moment. He felt like he was coming out of his skin, cooped up in the castle like an owl in a cage. It had begun to feel like a prison again, and Harry was ready to break out.

"I need to fly."

"Right. I'll just fetch my broom–"

"I didn't say I was going to," Harry snapped. "You know we can't. Don't say it like we can just go out for a stroll!"

Ginny turned to her friend. "Luna…would you mind? I'd like to speak with Harry alone."

"Oh. Sure. See you around."

"You didn't have to send her off," Harry grumbled.

"Talk to me, Harry."

"There's nothing to-"

"Are you going to break up with me?"

"What? No!"

"Is this when you regain that famous Potter sense of nobility? Is this where you tell me you're going to leave me behind?" He couldn't help the look on his face, and she read it like a parchment. "Bloody hell, Harry!"

"No, it's not…it's not you!"

"You're unbelievable, Harry Potter! After everything we've been through this year!"

"Ginny, please. You misunderstand!"

"You're so full of shit!"

"Hermione Broadcasts!"

This brought Ginny up short. New understanding blossomed over her face, and her thin ginger brows rose. "Bloody hell. I mean, we knew…"

"I know. I didn't put it together either, until Ez spelled it out for me. I've spent weeks searching for a solution, a potion, a spell, anything that would keep her from giving us away. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to silence a mind without doing permanent damage?"

"What did Hermione say?"

Harry glanced back out the window. He hadn't worked up the courage to talk to her and Ron about it. He'd hoped to find a solution before he'd have to have that particular conversation.

"Oh, Harry."

"I don't know what I'm going to do."

"You should've told me. Why do you keep these kinds of secrets from me? I can help."

Just then Hermione and Ron rounded the corner. "Bugger," Harry grumbled. "Ginny, don't say anything yet."

"They're not stupid, you know. They know something's wrong. You've been a moody git lately."

"Just give me a couple more days. I'll think of something. I have to."

She slipped her hand into his. "We'll think of something, Harry. You and me."

"Defense is cancelled," Hermione announced as they approached. "There's a note on the door."

"Is it Ez?" Ginny asked. "Is she all right? I don't remember seeing her at breakfast."

Ron gave a shrug. "We just passed Charlie on his way out. He didn't look upset."

"Charlie left Hogwarts? Alone?"

"It's probably Order," Hermione said.

"And Ez?"

"She's fine," Ron assured. "Otherwise Charlie would be a madman. You worry too much, Harry. Just be thankful we have the morning off."

"Exactly," Hermione said. "Now we'll be able to catch up on our Transfiguration reading."

Ron looked at her as if she'd just gone stark raving. "Read? Homework? This is bullocks!" he said, outraged. "What does that witch mean, canceling class like that? And, we were supposed to learn that new Flaming Hands Spell this morning in Defense!"

Hermione blushed. "You mean the Burning Sever Curse – I showed you Flaming Hands last night." The half grin on Ron's face told Harry more than he wanted to know about that particular spell.

Ginny made a face. "I think I'll just check in on Ez."

"Right. I'll go with you," Harry said. "If it's Order, maybe there's been some news."

"Maybe."

When they knocked on Charlie and Ez's door, and there was no immediate answer, Harry and Ginny shared a concerned look. They hadn't said what was foremost in their minds. Now, though, it didn't seem wise to avoid it.

"I'll check the infirmary," Harry said.

"And I'll see the Headmistress. She'll know if it's Order, at least."

But then the door opened, and Ez stuck her head out. "Harry? What is it?"

She looked her usual self, with her dark hair pulled back in pins, heavy eye make-up and red lips.

The worst of their suspicions alleviated, Ginny began with, "Defense class-"

"Is cancelled. Right." Then, Ez closed the door.

Harry and Ginny shared another look, this time confusion.

"What the bloody hell?" Ginny muttered. She rapped on the door again.

"What is it?" Ez demanded, even before the door was properly opened.

"Is everything quite all right?"

"Fine. Go away," Ez said before shutting the door on them again.

Ginny glared at the door, and then slammed her fist repeatedly against it until it opened again.

"What?"

"Defense was cancelled. I want to know why. Where did my brother go?"

"It's none of your business," Ez told her, but before she could close the door Ginny stuck her foot between the door and the frame. "Let it go. Isn't there something else the two of you can be doing? Necking, or snogging, or whatever it is that you two do in the Room of Requirements?"

Jaw set, Ginny cast a terse, "_Alohomora!_" and the door slammed open. She quickly took in the room and then sagged a little. Harry did as well, when he saw Tonks on the couch, colorless except for her red-rimmed eyes and nose. She was actively crying, blowing her nose, and trying to swallow down Firewhiskey all at the same time.

"What's happened?" Ginny asked, less demanding now and more sympathetic.

When she hurried over to Tonks, Ez grumbled an irritated, "By all means, come in," under her breath.

"It's Lupin, isn't it?" Ginny asked. "Oh, my stars…is he all right?"

"Lupin?" Harry's heart stopped for a moment. "What's happened? Has something happened?" His stomach tensed to brace for a blow.

Ez crossed her arms over her expanding belly. She sighed. "He left last night."

"He left? Where'd he go?"

"He left her, Harry."

Harry looked between Ez and Tonks. It didn't make sense. "But…no." Lupin was alive at least, and unhurt. Harry tried to temper his relief with Tonks' obvious grief. "He – he wouldn't."

"He snuck out before she woke up," Ez grumbled under her breath. "Fucking coward."

Harry eyed her. Did she really not remember Christmas?

"He'll be back," Ginny assured, with a gentle pat to Tonks' shoulder. "You'll see."

But Tonks thrust a parchment at Ginny, and then lifted her glass and muttered the spell to refill it. The Firewhiskey level sank in the decanter by the fireplace.

"But…what does this mean?" Ginny said.

"It means I don't have a cock. It means the bloody poof lied when he said he loved me – he never really loved me. He never really wanted to marry me." She swallowed the entire contents of her glass. "I knew he didn't. I knew that bloody bugger didn't love me, but I thought… hell, Ez. Why did you have to be right about him?"

"I'm sorry."

"No!" Tonks turned on her heel – a little too quickly for her current inebriated state. She wobbled, and caught herself on the table, to the expense of her glass. It fell to the floor and shattered, spraying the strong smell of alcohol and shards of glass across the floor.

"You will not apologize!" Tonks insisted. "This isn't your fault. None of it's your fault. It's my fault. I thought my love was enough for the both of us. I thought I was…enough. But I'm…I'm never enough." She sank down to the floor, still clinging to the table, and the sobs came hard and fast. "I should know by now. I'm never good enough."

"That's not true!" Ginny insisted. "Oh, Tonks!"

But Tonks raised a hand to keep Ginny away. She obviously didn't want help any more than she wanted sympathy. "It is! I wasn't good enough for your brother, now was I? No, Alice Prissly and her breasts were better than me, weren't they? Like sisters, joined at the chest, they were!" And just to prove her point she squished her face and her breast inflated, each to the size of her head. Harry felt his cheeks go hot.

"It wasn't like that," Ez said slowly, listening to a voice only she could hear. "He says Alice wasn't until the two of you broke it off." And then her brows lowered. "You're right about the breasts, though. Wizards are pigs."

Tonks' chest deflated, and so did the rest of her. She looked lost on the floor, surrounded by glass - brown and bland, and crying.

"Oh, Tonks," Ginny cooed. "It's awful, I know, but–"

"No, you don't. You don't know. You couldn't possibly."

Ginny, crouched beside Tonks, narrowed her eyes. She didn't contradict Tonks, though Harry could tell she wanted to. Instead, she straightened her back and stood. "You took care of me once, when my world was coming apart." Ginny held out her hand. "Come on, then. I'll help you get cleaned up, get something solid in your stomach, and brew you a Hangover Potion for you to take in the morning."

Tonks shook her head. "I don't want your help."

"Yes, well. As you plainly know, you don't always get what you want, now do you? Come along. There's no sense in wallowing on the floor, really, as Lupin's not here to feel retched over it. Besides, you smell like a distillery and it's not even noon."

Reluctantly Tonks allowed Ginny to pull her up and lead her into the bedroom. Ez nodded approvingly. "I'm really starting to like that girl."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. Ginny was wonderful. "So, Charlie went after Lupin?"

"Lupin's Order, and he knows a lot. A lot more than he's Whispered. Charlie's gone to be sure he's safe."

"Gone where? Surely he can't go too far."

"Just far enough to give us both a headache." She went to the couch and collapsed down with a groan. "It's too early in the morning for this."

"Is she going to be all right?"

"Eventually. The heart does scar over enough to carry on, if it has to. Hell. I saw this coming a mile away. I could kill him for hurting her like this."

"He'll come back."

"No, Harry, he won't. Fucking coward."

"If you hadn't Portkeyed into Bill's wedding, would you ever have gone back to Charlie?"

"No."

"No? Just like that? You didn't even have to think about it?"

"No."

"I don't understand that."

"Consider yourself lucky."

"No, I mean I don't understand how you could leave Charlie, knowing how the two of you feel about each other, knowing that you would never see him again, then call Lupin a coward for doing the same thing."

"It's hardly the same thing."

"It's exactly the same-"

"It's not! Lupin is running from his own doubts, his own prejudices. I left Romania to keep Charlie alive."

Somehow Harry doubted her actions had been completely altruistic. "He's just scared. Like you were. Like I was. It's difficult to feel so much for another person – especially when you've been alone for so long. It can be overwhelming. Terrifying."

Ez narrowed her eyes at him. "How old are you again?"

"But he'll be back," Harry told her. "Just like you came back, just like I won Ginny back."

"And there's my teenage friend, still full of hope and boundless faith in his fellow wizard."

"Well, I'm not saying it's going to be easy."

"Harry, Remus is gay."

"Yeah, but if it's love then gender shouldn't matter. If Ginny was a bloke, I wouldn't care, I'd date her anyway."

"Really? Because we can test that theory, you know?"

Harry froze. "What?"

"Yeah. That's what I thought." Ez rubbed a hand over her face, and then pressed the heel against her eye. "Harry. Percy stopped by for a visit last night."

He knew what was coming, and he rolled his eyes and dropped down into the wing-back chair in a fit of disgust. Of course Percy wouldn't keep his confidence. Harry had been right not to trust him with the whole story.

"He's worried. Actually, he's beyond worried. The Cobalt Solution will seal Hermione's mind like you want, but it will also burn out every spark of magic in her."

"Well, I know that now, don't I?"

"People die from drinking that potion. My aunt on my mother's side went insane – though I suspect she'd been teetering in that direction for a while before she actually drank the Solution."

"It's dangerous. I get that now."

"Percy thinks you want the potion for yourself. He thinks you've got enough Potions knowledge to brew it on your own."

"Really?"

"He came to me asking if you were desperate enough to do it. Reckless enough. Crazy enough."

"Did you tell him why I wanted it?"

Ez gave him a hard look and pursed her lips. "No," she finally said. "Are you going to make the potion?"

"Of course not!"

"But you're looking for something else. Some other magical cure to Hermione's Broadcasting."

"Ez, I need her. I need Ron. We're a team."

"Then why not tell them? My understanding is that Hermione's a research fiend, and Ron will do most anything to keep Hermione safe. If you're a team, why isn't this a team effort?"

Just then Ginny slipped in and quietly shut the bedroom door behind her. "She's sleeping," she whispered, and then took in both Ez and Harry's strained expressions. "Oh, bloody - now what is it?"

Ez shot a raised brow at Harry.

"She knows," he told her.

"I know what?" She dropped down on the couch next to Ez. "What is it? Are you all right?"

"Ez thinks I should tell Hermione and Ron, too."

"Thank you!" Ginny cried. "Finally some sense! When will you tell them, then? Today?"

"No!"

Ez and Ginny shared a weary look. They'd gotten very close in the weeks since Charlie and Ez's wedding – close enough to even bicker like siblings on occasion. Neither of them had ever had a sister before, and neither knew just what to make of it. They spent a lot of time exchanging Charlie stories – too much time in Harry's opinion. Especially when they took sides against him.

"No," Harry reiterated, for himself as much as them. "No, I need Hermione. I'm going to find a way."

Ez shook her head. "Harry, in all of my life, in all the books I've read, all the people I've talked to and every source I've tracked down, I've only found one way to keep someone from Broadcasting, and that was by accident."

Harry looked up. His throat went dry. "Charlie? You did it? You got him to stop?"

"No. I Bonded with him, and then shielded for the both of us."

"But…but I can't Bond with Hermione!"

"I know."

"What about Ron?" Ginny asked without missing a beat.

"I'm not going to Bond with him either," Harry quipped. Ginny glared at him, and he tried to swallow his smirk.

Ez pushed the heel of her hand against her temple. "Ginny, you Severed your Bond for a reason. Would you really put Ron and Hermione through that?"

"You Bonded again."

"I knew you'd bring that up."

"And Harry and I are going to Bond again once Voldemort is gone."

Ez gave Harry a hard look. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Ginny snapped. "When we marry."

Ez opened her mouth to say something, and then breathed deeply and closed it again. She turned to Harry. "Unless Ron is a Legilimens, he won't be able to Bond with Hermione, let alone master a mental shield well enough to keep her from Broadcasting."

Harry shook his head. "There has to be something. Ron and Hermione are my greatest assets – you said so yourself."

Ginny loudly cleared her throat.

"And you," Harry quickly added. "Of course you. But you're not going to be left behind, now are you?"

"I'm not?" She sat up, and her face brightened. "Really, Harry?"

"Haven't we been through this?"

"Oh, Harry!" She leapt from the couch and threw herself at him so hard the chair jerked back on two legs. Harry barely saved them from toppling over. Kisses rained over his face and neck.

Harry, laughing, tried to wrestle Ginny into submission. "Enough! All right!"

And then she twisted against him just right, and his body began to respond. Her fingers curled at the back of his head, her lips fluttered over his eyelids, her thigh pressed into his lap, and suddenly it wasn't a game any more. Harry went hot from head to toe, and it was all he could do to hold her still.

"Gin," he croaked. "Not here."

She giggled. "Why not? Ez left already."

"Left?" Harry looked up, and sure enough, they were alone.

"She muttered something about getting more sleep, and went into the bedroom." Ginny kissed his nose, the corner of his mouth. "Didn't you hear her?"

All he'd heard was the roaring of blood in his ears.

"I want you, Harry."

He groaned. He bloody loved it when she said those words. She pushed his hands from her waist up to her chest, and he held her while she unbuttoned her shirt. White bra, with lace so thin he could see her nipples as she pushed the shirt aside.

"That's new," Harry whispered.

"No, no, no!" cried a familiar baritone, and Harry looked over to find Charlie standing in the door. "What is it with you two? Locking Charms!"

"Get out!" Ginny squeaked, twisting her shirt closed to cover her.

"This is my home," Charlie insisted, "and the two of you are breaking at least a dozen school rules – half of which would get me fired if the Headmistress had walked in instead of me! Doesn't anyone use the Quidditch locker rooms any more?"

"The grounds are still off-limits," Ginny bitterly reminded. "Aren't you supposed to be off collecting Lupin and bringing him to his senses?"

Charlie striped off his cloak and tossed it on the stand near the door. "Is Mere in bed, then?" He toed off his boots.

"Mmm," Ginny affirmed, "with Tonks. So, where's Lupin?"

"What?" Charlie looked at the bedroom door for a moment. "Both of them? In there together?" A wide, grin split his face. "And it's not even my birthday."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting. Tonks is beside herself and drunk off her arse, your pregnant wife is exhausted, and you're standing there thinking lascivious thoughts!"

"Lascivious, eh?" Charlie asked with a chuckle. "Button your shirt."


	33. Chapter 32 NEWTs

Part 3 - Spring

Chapter 32 – N.E.W.T.s

It was well past three in the morning. Ron sat opposite Harry in one of the wingback chairs near the dark common room fireplace, chewing absently on the end of a sugar quill. Hermione had gone to bed long ago, as had Ginny and the rest of Gryffindor Tower. Harry wasn't entirely certain why he and Ron hadn't joined them. The first of their N.E.W.T.s was less than five hours away – what more did they think they'd learn in that amount of time that might make even the slightest difference?

"I'm going up," Harry announced, slamming his Herbology book closed. Ron started. "I'm knackered."

"I'm hungry. Reckon Dobby would bring me something from the kitchens?"

"You're not going to bed?"

"Naw. I told Hermione I'd know everything in the book about Cornak Spores by the time she wakes up."

"Comak Spores? Really?"

"She thinks they'll be on the test. Of course, there are fifty different types of Comak Spores, and about a hundred different ways to use each one, so…" Ron's glazed eyes slipped down to the book on his lap. "I'm going to be here for a while."

"You're going to be half-dead for your N.E.W.T. I can't imagine Hermione would want that."

"I'll get some sleep after. Herbology is my weakest subject now, and I need to at least an E to take the Auror Admissions Test. It's important I can apply, even if we take a couple of years to sort out this Voldemort business." He looked up at Harry. "I guess I'm more like Percy than I like to admit. I don't want some dusty desk job at the Ministry like my father has. I don't want to be poor."

Harry nodded his understanding. Ron wasn't a prat for wanting something different than his father, he was simply becoming his own wizard. Harry dropped back down on the couch, and picked up his Herbology textbook. "So, Hermione says Cormak Spores?"

"Yeah," Ron said, giving him a thankful smile. "She said something about something that made her believe that they'd be on the test. I started thinking about her neck while she was talking, though, and missed just why. But she definitely said Cormak Spores."

"Right." Harry flipped through his textbook. The chapter on Cormack Spores was more than a hundred pages.

"Ginny told me," Ron said quietly. So quietly, in fact, that Harry wasn't sure he'd heard correctly.

"Told you what?"

"What you should've. About leaving Hermione behind." Ron didn't seem at all angry, though Harry wondered if fatigue was dulling his senses. "She said you've been looking for something to block Hermione's mind. She said the only thing that would work is you Bonding with Hermione."

Harry choked on his own spit. "That's not even a consideration."

"I've considered it."

"What?" Harry cried. "Are you mad?"

Ron shrugged. "When Hermione finds out, she's going to consider it, so I thought I'd work out how I feel about it first."

"You've gone mad," Harry muttered. "Stark, raving."

"I don't want you to do it."

"No kidding."

"I'd go so far as to say I won't allow it."

"Well, that's a relief," Harry bit out. "Seeing as I wouldn't do it."

"Hermione's mine."

"I know that!"

"Just so we're clear."

Harry couldn't believe they were even having the conversation. "We're more than clear," Harry assured. "But…don't you know that already? It was never even a possibility. Don't you know how I feel about Ginny?"

"If you weren't thinking about it, then why didn't you tell me?" There was a challenge in Ron's voice, but mostly he sounded hurt. "Why hide it?"

"Because I wanted to find a way before I told you. You and Hermione. I wanted to be able to say, 'This is a problem, but here's the answer.' I need Hermione with me out there. You and Hermione and Ginny. If I've learned anything over the last year it's that I can't hope to do this alone. Not if I want to survive. And I do. I want to see you become an Auror, mate."

Ron was still for a long, long moment, and Harry tried to feign interest in the book on his lap. When he couldn't take the silence anymore, Harry threw the book on the floor again. "What?"

"She's going to want to do it."

"You can't be serious. No, she won't."

"She will. You know Hermione. She won't be left behind." And then he glared down at his own text book and muttered, "She'd do anything for you."

"Not that."

A heavy silence fell between them. Neither moved. Harry's chest felt tight, like he was bracing for a blow that was sure to come. The air between them felt dangerous.

"Promise me," Ron said slowly, quietly. "Even if she…I'll have your word."

"She won't."

"Swear!"

"I swear on my soul, Ron, if that will convince you. But you shouldn't need convincing. There shouldn't be any doubt in your mind. I'm your best mate. Even if I did fancy Hermione – which I don't! – I would never, never…how could you even think it? Do you really think so little of me?"

Ron shrugged, still refusing to look up from his book. "She's lovely."

"Yes, of course she's lovely, you prat. And brilliant. And completely besotted with _you_."

"She won't be left behind. You know that."

"Why do you think I've been working to find-"

"I want her to stay behind."

It wasn't much of a revelation. After all, Harry wanted to keep Ginny out of harm's way, too. But to hear Ron say the words, to hear the plea for a solution not to be found, it left Harry speechless.

"If she had been in the spire with us, in Romania, she wouldn't have left like I did. She would've stayed to be sure you got out. But you didn't leave, and she would've stayed. She'll protect you at all costs. She'll die to protect you."

"I know."

"I'll stick with you to the bitter end," Ron told him. "I'll go where you want, when you want, for as long as you want. I'll even die to protect you, but Hermione can't come. She Broadcasts, so she can't come. End of."

Harry needed her, but he didn't see a viable solution, and at least this way he still had Ron. His stomach pitted around the decision. Hermione was going to kill him.

"End of," Harry acquiesced. "But, do I have to tell her?"

* * *

As far as exams went, N.E.W.T.s lived up to their name - they were both nasty and exhausting. After three tests, three days in a row, Harry was thankful for the weekend. They'd stayed up late the night before, celebrating along with the rest of Gryffindor at the spontaneous party that formed in the common room. Dobby supplied an endless array of delicious foods and butter beer and decorations. It had been a good night with everyone cheerful and restless. Their prison sentence was nearly up.

Seamus produced a wireless just after midnight, and the furniture was pushed out of the way. Harry had spent hours happily dancing with Ginny, and laughing with Ron and Hermione, and not thinking about anything more important than Ginny's earlobe.

It had been a fun night, followed by a beautiful, sunny morning. It was late – the other boys had gone down to breakfast hours before, but Harry decided against food in favor of a well-deserved lie-in. He slept intermittently, his dreams sliding from one to the next without making much in the way of sense. Ginny on a broom in her Quidditch uniform…Ron eating a plate full of his mum's treacle…Hermione with her face in a book, pestering Ron to do the same. Parchment and broomsticks and tarnished spoons, all jumbled together. Warm sun, soft sheets, a solid body sliding into the bed with him.

He slipped his arm around Ginny's bare waist and pulled her closer. They had the whole day to do anything at all. Or nothing. Or…he could keep her in bed until the sun went down. Her hand skimmed up his arm, and then slipped inside the sleeve of his t-shirt. His skin pebbled at her light touch. Two warm lips brushed his forehead, just over his scar. She touched his jaw, his shoulder, her hand skimmed down the front of his chest. Harry shivered.

"Gin," he whispered.

Her hand stopped, and Harry cracked his eyes just enough to see what was wrong. Two brown eyes looked back at him. The wrong brown eyes. Harry froze, though he tried to school his expression away from the horror he felt into something neutral. Ron was going to kill him for sure this time.

"I won't be left behind," Hermione whispered. Her eyes watered. She pulled back from him enough to reach her arm behind her, and after a moment of struggle, her black bra went slack.

Harry grabbed her shoulder to keep the strap in place. "Hermione-"

"It only has to be this once. And…and if we're careful, they'll never have to know. Once Voldemort is gone, we'll Sever the Bond." A tear escaped her bottom lashes, and began on its slant down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Hermione, if you don't want to do this-"

"No. I do. I do," she said, as if trying to convince herself. "Really. I'm sorry that I've put us in this…situation. Ez gave me exercises to do – she calls them mental gymnastics – and I've been doing them, Harry you have to believe that I've been doing them! But it doesn't help. There's no book I can read to tell me how to stop my mind from Broadcasting. I've looked."

"I know. I've looked, too."

"I feel like a failure."

She broke down into sobs then, and when she burrowed closer to Harry, he wrapped an arm around her. She was warm and smelled sweet, and Harry's body responded a little.

He needed to get her out of his bed. He needed to get her dressed. She half-heartedly kissed the side of his neck, and his lap jumped again.

"Hermione, wait."

"I can make it good," she said. "It doesn't have to take long. Does it?"

"Have you thought about this?"

"No. I can't think about it."

"Hermione–"

She collapsed in tears, her forehead against the front of his neck. Her shoulders shook, even as he felt her legs part and one of her thighs slipped up over his hip.

How could he tell her no without ruining their friendship? Rejecting her now meant rejecting her later, too, because he couldn't take her with him. She didn't want to be there in his bed, that much was clear. If he could just help her see that, and let it be her decision, then it wouldn't have to be about rejection. But she needed to see it fast, and before anyone walked in. Ron would never forgive either of them if he found out she'd been there, and she had to know that, too.

"Harry…"

"Don't choose me over Ron," he whispered against the top of her head. "I'm not worth it."

This only made her cry harder.

"Hermione, look at me."

She shook her head, but he tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her face until they were practically nose to wet nose. She sniffled.

"If I'm not there…how will I protect him?"

Harry felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. She was practically naked in his bed for Ron. That level of love, of complete devotion was humbling, confusing. "Oh, Hermione. You don't want this."

"He needs me." Her lips brushed his temple. "How can I let him down? I'd do anything for him, Harry. Anything."

"Even Bond with me? What will he say?" She shook her head, looked away, but Harry pressed. "Hermione. This will kill him."

She pulled away from him, rolled on to her back, and dropped an arm over her eyes to shield her face as she began to weep. Her breasts were exposed, and the bra was still laced around her arms was like a black ribbon across her chest. Harry looked away.

"But…but if I love him, if I'd do anything for him…" She gasped around a sob. "I'm…I'm a failure."

"You're not."

"I'm a…a…a betrayer!"

"Oh, come now. Hermione, you're not."

"I am! I came here with every intention of having sex with you!"

"That doesn't make you… it's because you love Ron."

"If I love him so much, then why I can't do it? I told myself that it wouldn't matter as long as I could protect him. That he's all that matters, because he loves me. I know he does, even if he hasn't said it. I know it. I do! And I've betrayed that love because I can't do this! I've betrayed his trust. He trusts me to watch out for him. He needs me. And, I've betrayed our friendship, Harry. I'm so, so sorry." She dissolved into more tears.

"Hermione-" He reached for her, but she jerked away.

"No! Don't look at me!" He felt her slide off the bed, and heard her rustle clothing from the floor. "Don't tell him, Harry. Please."

"Never," he promised. "Or Ginny."

As Hermione hurried from the room he called a quick, "And stay away from Ez for a while," after her.

* * *

Harry had hoped that would be the end of it, and they'd never have to speak of it again. But as the day wore on, and no one had seen or heard from Hermione, not even Ron, Harry began to worry. He looked for her, but tried not to look like he was looking for her – not an easy feat.

When he was certain she wasn't in Gryffindor Tower he checked all her usual haunts; the library, the prefect's bathroom, the Room of Requirements. He even climbed the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, convinced he'd find her leaning on one of the crenellations lining the battlement over looking the school grounds, and the lake, and Dumbledore's Tomb.

He went to Ez only when he didn't know where else to look.

"She's in the girl's dorm. Gryffindor Tower." On the couch, a plate balanced on her round belly, and her feet up, Ez looked at him over a watercress sandwich. Charlie, next to her had his own plate balanced on his knee. "But leave her alone, Harry. She's almost got it figured out."

"You can hear her all the way from here?"

"She's upset."

"So then…"

"Yeah. It's been quite a morning. And just so you know, she thought about what sex with you would be like too, so you can stop feeling guilty about it. The important thing is that her boundaries have finally slipped into place." She took a large bite of her food, and chewed thoughtfully. "Anyway, it wouldn't have worked."

"What wouldn't?"

"You can't Bond with Hermione. Or, at least, I don't think you can."

"What? Why the bloody hell didn't you-"

"The same reason you didn't just kick her out of your bed. She needed to figure it out without you rejecting her, and you needed to figure it out, too."

"But! But what if we hadn't figured it out?"

"Then I would've had to hurt you," Charlie said lightly. "Badly."

Harry wasn't intimidated by the threat - he was annoyed by it. The two of them had eavesdropped on a private moment between him and Hermione – a painful, private moment.

"Why wouldn't it have worked?" Harry demanded, arms crossed.

"Hermione's mind isn't like Ginny's. Reading her is painful and disorienting. It would take a Legilimens with a lot more skill that you have to manage an orgasm - and give her one – in the middle of all that Screaming."

"You don't think he could do it? He is a teenage boy," Charlie said thoughtfully. "Could you do it?"

"Me?" Ez asked. A second later she rolled her eyes. "You're a dirty old wizard, Charlie Weasley."

"You could do it, though," he said with a grin.

"Shut up."

"I bet you could do it from here."

"I'm already Bonded," she bit out. "Regretfully."

"I wasn't talking about Bonding." He leaned close to her, and gave her a playful leer.

"You want to sleep on the couch tonight, don't you?"

Charlie laughed, and edged closer. "Empty threat. You forget I'm in your head."

Ez sighed. "If only I could."

Harry left before their bantering turned into a snog.

* * *

Hermione managed to avoid him the rest of the weekend.

"Are you feeling all right?" Ginny asked Hermione.

The two of them sat opposite each other at one of the tables in the common room with Harry, who had his Defense book open in front of him, and Ron, who was eating a chocolate frog and flipping though Hermione's Defense notes. Hermione had her own book open, too, but she hadn't looked at it all night. They were supposed to be quizzing each other on the various Cutting Curses and their applications, but she'd been so quiet as to be practically catatonic.

"She's sulking," Ron muttered, clearly irritated at her.

"I'm not," Hermione muttered.

"I told her she can't come with us, and now she won't say two words to me," Ron said.

"That's not true."

"Is too."

"Clearly, it's not."

They glared at each other until Hermione's eyes began to water, and she ducked her head. Harry touched her arm, but she jerked away from him.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggested. "Get some air."

"I don't want air," she insisted, sniffing, and forcing her face neutral. "I've still got five N.E.W.T.s to study for."

She stared at her text book, and Ginny glared at her brother. "What is wrong with you?"

"Me? What about her?" he asked, pointing to Hermione.

"Can't you see she's upset?" Ginny snapped.

"I'm not," Hermione said. "I'm good."

"You want me to feel guilty," Ron snapped. "But I won't. It's not my fault you can't come with us. I didn't make you Broadcast."

Hermione put a fist to her mouth to stop her lip from quivering, and when that didn't work she jumped up from her chair and fled up the girls' stair again before she burst into tears.

"Bloody brute," Ginny growled at her brother. "Now look what you've done!"

"I didn't do anything," he grumbled, guiltily.

"You told her she can't come with us before she finished her N.E.W.T.s," Harry said. "You knew it would throw her, but you didn't wait-"

"What? Like you? How many weeks have you known we wouldn't be taking her?" Ron accused. "You didn't tell me, either, for that matter."

"Wait," Harry said, "are you mad at me, now? I thought you were relieved she wasn't going."

"Relieved?" Ginny screeched.

"I want her safe!" Ron roared.

Everyone in the common room glanced anxiously in their direction.

"Er…Ginny," Harry said quietly, "why don't you see to Hermione."

She stood, still staring daggers at her brother. "You don't know what it's like to be left behind."

"I'd like to be left behind right now," he muttered. Ginny's eyes flared, and she drew her wand.

The only thing that prevented Ron from being hexed was Harry's firm hand on her wrist. "You're scaring the first years."

When Ginny disappeared up the stairs, Harry sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Next time I'll let her hex you."

"Shove off."

"Are you angry at me, then, or just cross in general?"

Ron pursed his lips, slammed his book shut. "She went to you, didn't she? She asked you."

Harry knew what Ron was asking. He closed his eyes, not wanting to answer, but fearing that Ron would ask a more specific question if he didn't. "Ron-"

"I went to kiss her last night and she froze. She's never done that before." Ron crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "Did you kiss her?"

"She was desperate."

Ron chortled darkly. "Oh, she'd have to be to shag the likes of you, wouldn't she?"

Harry's face went hot with rage, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from drawing his wand. "You know – you _know_ we bloody well didn't."

"Because I had your word–"

"Because she couldn't go through with it, you bleeding bugger!" Harry snapped.

"So, she did go to you!"

Harry leaned close. "Don't be an idiot. You know Hermione better than anyone, and you said once she found out, that she'd consider it, same as you. And _same as you_, she couldn't go through with it."

Ron, jaw set, wasn't ready yet to be reasonable. "Did you kiss her?"

"None of it matters, Ron."

"It matters to me."

"What matters is that she loves you. What matters is that she feels that she betrayed that love."

Ron gave a sarcastic snort. "Wonder why?"

"Not because she considered the Bond, you imbecile, but because she couldn't go through with it."

"You're lying."

"And you're blind if you think that you have any reason at all to be jealous. She thinks Bonding with me is the only way she can be with you, and because she couldn't go through with it, she feels she's betrayed you because she won't be there to keep you safe."

"Keep me safe?"

"You're not the only one with nightmares, Ron. Yours end in a fall down the stairs, hers end with the brains in the Department of Mysteries."

Ron's face softened, his brows knit. "But…why didn't she tell me?"

"Why haven't you told her you love her?"

Hurt and accusation colored Ron's expression. "You're saying this is my fault, then?"

Harry sighed. "Just tell her, Ron. She needs to hear it."

* * *

"Is Hermione pregnant?"

Harry choked on his steak pie, and gravy went everywhere. He grabbed his napkin, wiped his mouth. "What?"

Ginny, across the Gryffindor House table, leaned forward on her elbows, unmoved by Harry's reaction. "Do you know? Would she tell you?"

"Why would you ask me something like that?"

"She's not eaten a proper meal in more than a week now, and she's crying all the time."

"She's under a load of stress," Harry reminded. "She's taking ten N.E.W.T.s!"

"Ron's been off, too. And he's finished his five N.E.W.T.s."

Harry began mopping up the table.

"And what about you?" Ginny asked. "Are you under a load of stress, too?"

Harry glanced flatly at her. "I'm not pregnant."

This earned him a smirk. "You haven't touched me in a week."

"That's not true!"

"Really? Could've fooled me. When was the last time you kissed me?"

"Last night!"

"On the mouth, Harry."

Harry felt his ears go hot.

"You finished your last N.E.W.T four days ago. Is there something you want to tell me?"

The question caught him off guard. He had a moment of déjà vu – Dumbledore had asked him that very question once, and Harry had lied and said no…just like Tom Riddle had done. _Is there something you want to tell me?_ Such a simple question, and a question with a terribly complicated answer.

"Harry?"

"Yes," he finally admitted. "There is. But not here. Not now."

Her face dropped. "You're scaring me."

Harry leaned forward, over the table, and said quietly, "I need Hermione, Ginny. I need her with us when we leave."

"We're going to take her?"

"Can you bring Hermione to the Defense classroom tonight after curfew?"

Ginny hesitated. "What are you going to do?"

"Just…can you be there?"

"Of course," she said. "Harry, what are you going to do?"

"Trust me."

"I do trust you. Now tell me what the hell you're going to do!"

Harry stood. If they were going to do it tonight, he had a lot of preparations to finish. "Look, I've got to find Ron. I'll leave the Marauder's Map on your bed. Bring Hermione, and meet me in the Defense classroom at midnight."

"Why midnight? Harry? Harry look at me!" Her face was red, her brown eyes wide and angry. "Are you…just tell me, are you going to Bond with Hermione?"

Harry shook his head. "Midnight, Ginny. And don't tell her what it's about."

"I don't know what it's about!"

"I know. I'm sorry, but it's better if you don't."

* * *

Harry's stomach was a knot. He'd gone through everything a hundred times in his head, and Ez was in place, and Ron knew his role, and still it would be so easy for something to go wrong, for something to be misjudged, misconstrued – or not misconstrued, which would be a disaster. Harry now regretted leaving Ginny out of the preparations. Originally, he'd agreed with Ez that it would be better for Hermione if Ginny wasn't involved, better for them all, really, because then they'd know for certain. Harry needed to be certain, and that meant he needed Hermione on edge - she always Broadcast the loudest when she was under stress. He needed her Screaming tonight.

Ron sneezed. "Roses," he muttered. "You couldn't have gotten something else?"

"I didn't know you were allergic."

"Well, I don't spend a tremendous amount of time around roses, now do I? I'm going to transfigure them into daisies."

"Leave them," Harry ordered. "Everything has to be perfect. Red roses mean love."

"And what does a red nose mean? Come on, Harry. Daisies don't make me sneeze."

"I swear, Ron, if you transfigure those bloody flowers I will force them down your miserable throat."

Ron's brows lifted, and his eyes went wide. "A bit on edge, are we?"

"I need this to work."

"Yeah." Ron was not pleased, but after much debate and a brief scuffle that ended in Ginny casting a Bat Bogie Hex at the both of them, a bruised and bogey-covered Ron finally began to see Harry's point. At least Hermione could break up their squabbles without anyone getting hexed. They needed Hermione with them.

When the door opened, Harry's heart almost stopped.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

Beside her, Ginny looked suspicious. "A tent?" she asked. "Harry, what are you up to?"

It was a small green canvas tent, common Ministry issue. Outside it looked barely big enough to sleep one Muggle comfortably, inside it had two bedrooms and a working loo. It wasn't anything posh, but it would more than do.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked Ron, finally realizing he was holding four dozen roses as if they were cursed. "Ron?"

"I want you to Bond with him," Ron said clearly, but without the "I love you," they'd rehearsed.

Hermione froze, horror dawning on her face.

"_What?_" Ginny screeched, and Harry was now completely certain he should've explained things to her privately after all. "_WHAT?_"

Ron nodded. "It's the only way."

Something fell over in the professor's office, and Harry hoped it wasn't Ez. Hermione didn't seem to hear it. She didn't seem to hear anything at all. Her gaze was locked disbelievingly on Ron. Harry wasn't sure she was breathing.

"Come on," Ginny snapped, grabbing Hermione's wrist and yanking her back toward the door. "We're getting out of here."

"Wait!" Ron and Harry called together. Harry had to pull his wand from his pocket and lock the door before they could escape. His hand shook.

"Gin," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Trust me."

"You will _not_ Bond with Hermione! I won't allow it! I won't!" Her face went red with anger, and her eyes watered. "You're a bloody bastard, Harry Potter, if you think you can do this to me!"

Harry held out his hand to her, but she didn't move to take it. He couldn't lose her now. "Ginny, I need you to trust me in this. I know what I'm doing."

"You don't! You can't possibly!"

"Take my hand, Gin."

"Why do you hate me?"

"I love you. I will always love you. Take my hand, Gin. Please."

Tears slipped over her lashes. "I can't believe you'd do this to me. I can't believe it. It's not you. I can't believe it."

"I'm sorry," he told her, and he truly was, but not for the reason she thought. He would make it up to her later. Deception always had its price, and Ginny was expensive.

He pressed into her mind, _Gin, you've got to trust me. I need you to trust me._

Slowly, painfully, she slipped her fingers along his palm. Harry didn't give her a chance to change her mind. He gripped her hand and pulled her to him, into a tight embrace. Her arms went around him, and he felt her body shake as she gave into a muffled cry. He buried his face in her hair.

Lips to ear, Harry whispered, "It's not what you think, I swear. Trust me." Then, before she could react, he reached out and took Hermione's hand, too. She flinched, but didn't pull away. Her eyes were full of Ron and his ridiculously big bouquet of roses. He sneezed.

Harry led them to the tent. He tightened his grip when Ginny tried to pull away.

"I need you, too," he told her.

"Ginny, too?" Ron asked, a look of puzzlement on his face. "Really?"

Ginny's eyes went wide, and she sucked in a breath. She didn't struggle, though, and when Harry got the two girls inside the tent, he gave her a wink. "Cheeky."

"I…I thought I knew him," Hermione muttered. Her eyes searched the carpeted tent floor, but didn't seem to see it. "I don't know him at all."

"Hermione," Harry gently said, "you do know him. Better than you think."

She shook her head. "No. No, I don't." She covered her face with the hand Harry wasn't holding. "He doesn't love me."

"He does."

"No. No, not if he'll share me…he can't possibly." Her shoulders shook as the tears overwhelmed her.

Harry's heart turned, and he couldn't bear to let them suffer any longer. If Ez didn't know already, she wasn't likely to know at all.

"I need you with me, Hermione."

Her red, wet eyes shot to his, and the horror they held when she had looked at Ron was now aimed at him for one brief, painful moment. Then her face went oddly blank, her eyes gazed past him, and she nodded. "Of...of course. I know."

Ginny yanked her arm away from Harry. She made for the door, but Harry stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "Ginny, listen. You know I've been looking for weeks, but there's no potion, not spell that will stop Hermione from Broadcasting."

"I don't care!"

"But I do," Harry told her.

"Take your bloody hand off me."

"There's no potion," he continued, "but there is, however, dragon's blood."

Hermione nodded. "Dragon's blood. The sixth use. It blocks a Legilimens. But it also strips the wizard of all magic who drinks it. It's a regent in the Cobalt Solution. It can be deadly."

"Only if you drink it."

"What? You want her to bathe in it?" Ginny sarcastically snapped.

Harry glanced up at the green tent around them. Dragon's blood green. "It took fifteen liters to paint the whole bloody thing – three coats, mind - and that took time to find and a lot of gold, but if it works, it'll be worth it."

"If what works?" Ginny demanded, wiping her cheek angrily with the back of her hand.

"Oh, my…Harry?" Hermione looked up at the tent as if waking from a nightmare. "Fifteen liters? You painted it with Dragon's blood? But will that work?"

"Dunno. That's why I needed you Broadcasting as loudly as your mind possibly could. I'm sorry. Honestly. But we needed to be absolutely certain that the tent would properly contain your mind. If there had been any other way to test–"

"You never had any intention of Bonding with Hermione?" Ginny asked, but instead of looking relieved, she looked even angrier.

"Of course not," Harry told her. "I told you to trust me."

"_Why the bloody hell didn't you tell me?_"

"Gin…if it was to be believable, then you would have to be upset, too! I…I didn't think I had any choice! Why the hell didn't you trust me?"

Ron bounded through the tent flaps. "It works! Bloody hell, it works! Ez said she couldn't hear a thing once you lot came inside. In fact, she asks if Hermione will live in here from now on!" Ron was all smiles, until he saw the look of wrath on Ginny's face.

He flinched when Hermione jumped at him, but then melted into confusion when her arms wrapped tight around his neck, and her mouth pressed against his. Ginny began to storm out, but Harry caught her arm – a move he quickly regretted.

Half an hour later, Harry sat on the tent floor under his Shield Spell, and Ron under his, nursing fresh bruises while the angry bat bogies beat against their magical protections.

"I think that went reasonably well," Ron said. "All things considered."


	34. Chapter 33 The Secret Keeper

Part 3 - Summer

Chapter 33 – The Secret Keeper

From the moment Harry first stepped foot in Hogwarts, he'd worked slowly and painstakingly toward graduation. Seven years seemed forever to his eleven year old self, so he never gave that looming eventuality much thought. In truth, Harry was half surprised that he'd made it to graduation alive – and thankful, of course; now he could leave. Dumbledore's death had pretty much killed Hogwarts for Harry, and he'd spent the better part of the previous year trying to find a way to say good-bye.

So, it was odd when the diploma was placed in his hand and a round of applause went up through the Great Hall, that the sense of accomplishment Harry thought he would feel, or the sense of relief he'd hoped for now that he would be leaving for good, didn't come. Parchment in hand, he walked back his chair amid pats on the back and a loud set of whistles from George and Fred, rather stunned. He didn't think about his parents in that moment he stepped between student and graduate, or prophecies or dark wizards, or even Dumbledore. The only thought that filtered through his daze was an inexplicable stab of, "I've no home."

That night there was a loud party at the Burrow, and try as he might, Harry couldn't find the easy laughter that poured from Hermione and Ron and the rest of them. So, he slipped out of the house after a while to leave them with their merry making. The dark quiet suited his mood, and the warm breeze felt good. Ginny found him sitting on the stone wall in the garden.

"Cake?" Ginny asked, handing him a plate. "Ez baked it. It's amazing. Charlie's already eaten half of it on his own. I rescued you a piece."

"Thanks."

"Shall I sit with you then?"

"Yeah. Do." The cake was delicious. Harry split it with Ginny. They took turns feeding each other, and shared an easy, chocolaty kiss. Then, in his arms, she relaxed against him. They looked up at the stars. It was a pleasantly warm night, and the sky was clear.

"Want to go for a fly?" she asked. They could here. Moody had renewed the Burrow's defenses now that Headquarters was known to have been compromised, and Charlie didn't yet have a home for his new family. They needed something secure, something easily defended, and Charlie and Tonks had spent a great deal of time over the previous week looking for that perfect house.

"Harry? Fly?"

"Later."

Ginny looked at him. "Talk to me, Harry. You can tell me anything. What is it?"

He shrugged. "It's nothing really."

"Then why aren't we in there dancing? Ez is dancing, and she's about as big as the living room."

Harry chuckled. Ez was enormous, but aside from needing a nap or two during the day, she didn't let her pregnancy slow her down too much. Ginny would be the same. Some day. He hoped.

"I just have things on my mind. I haven't figured how to get into Gringotts yet to collect the Horcrux."

"Neither have I," Ginny said dryly, "and I still want to dance. Dance with me, Harry."

He stood, and pulled her up, wrapped his arms around her. They fit together so well that her body against his was a welcome familiarity. He held her and let her hold him, and suddenly it was a little easier to breathe.

The music coming through the half open windows was muted and bass heavy. Harry swayed a little, and Ginny rested her head against his shoulder and followed his lead.

"I love you, Gin," he said to the top of her head.

"I know. I love you, too."

"Yeah."

"So talk to me."

Harry sighed. "Lupin sent an owl. He said he's proud of me for graduating."

"You made all five N.E.W.T.s. That's definitely something to be proud of."

"I thought he would be here. He's the last of my dad's friends, and I thought–"

"Harry, Tonks is here."

"I know, I know. But he broke it off with her, not me."

She squeezed him. "Oh, Harry. It won't always be like this. She'll find someone else. Or, maybe they both will, and then it'll be easier."

The door opened, and a figure that could only be Tonks slipped out. She froze when she saw Harry and Ginny, spotlighted in the cast from the living room window. She glanced down at the large bottle of Firewhiskey she had with her, and then back at Harry and Ginny.

"Hiya," Ginny called to her.

"Wotcher."

"Everything all right?"

"Bloody brilliant," Tonks said. "I thought I'd be alone out here. I wanted to be alone. I'm going out there." She pointed toward the orchard.

"With the whole bottle, you thought you'd be alone?" Ginny questioned.

"I'm going to get stinking drunk."

Ginny pulled out of Harry's arms. "I'm going to go with her."

"Yeah. All right."

"She just…she needs a friend."

"I know. It's all right."

She kissed his cheek.

It wasn't a surprise that Ginny and Tonks had grown close. They shared an understanding for the misery in love, and Harry was aware enough to feel a deep rooted guilt that Ginny had ever hurt that much. As he watched the two witches head toward the orchard, arm in arm, Harry knew that he was the luckiest bloody bastard in the world that Ginny had picked him, and the most grateful that she'd stayed with him. His life was empty without her, pointless.

"Is she all right?" Charlie had come out from the house without Harry really noticing. He stepped into the light from the window, and nodded after Ginny and Tonks. "Where are they going?"

"To get 'stinking drunk,' I think was the phrase used. But yeah, I think she's all right. She just needs a friend tonight. Ginny will take care of her."

"There was a time when that would've been Mere going out there with her. When the two of them got together, they drank like…mere-people." He gave Harry a sideways grin. "Don't tell her I told you."

"She doesn't already know?"

Charlie shrugged. "She's not paying attention. Mum's telling Charlie-was-a-baby stories. She's laughing. Merlin, I love her laugh."

Charlie inhaled deeply, and looked up at the velvety sky. He swallowed. "Harry, I'm glad I found you out here. There are some things I've been meaning to speak with you about. I've been putting them off, really. No need to burden you before your N.E.W.T.s. Congratulations on those, by the way. Five is a respectable number."

"Hermione made ten."

With a smirk, Charlie rolled his eyes. "Well, she's Hermione."

"She is, at that."

"But that doesn't take away from all you've accomplished. Or what you will accomplish. Have you given any thought to what comes next?"

"With the Horcruxes, you mean? Yeah. Some."

"The Order is here to help, Harry."

The majority of the Order was made up of the Mrs. Figgs and Daedelus Diggles of the wizarding world. Wizards and witches who knew good from bad, and right from wrong, and wanted to make a difference, however small. But not necessarily those prepared to walk into battle. Harry shook his head. "It's too dangerous."

"The Order is a tool, Harry, not a weapon. We have eyes and ears all over the country, and you know our reach extends internationally." Charlie glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. "But there are a few of us with practical battle experience. There are a few of us who are bloody good in a battle...if we need to be."

Harry wasn't comfortable with the suggestion, but he didn't reject it. Charlie's offer, however unsettling, was ruthlessly practical. "I just don't want to see another boy orphaned because of Voldemort."

"Yeah," Charlie said with a sedate nod. "You and me both. Believe me, I know Poenari was a mistake – and very nearly a disastrous one. Merlin, Harry, if Claudau hadn't been here, if he hadn't gotten her out…" Charlie closed his eyes, shook his head. "But I'm still Order, and I've given my oath. I have no regrets about that."

"And the other?" Harry asked.

"I thought…Mere's a fighter. I thought if she's going to die, better for her to die fighting with the wizard she loves. And better that I go with her. But I was wrong. It's better that she live. It's better that we have our life together, that we have our baby. I couldn't see a way out then, and...to be honest, I don't know how these next few years are going to go, but I will find a way to keep them safe. I've got to. And if that means helping you to rid the world of the evil that plagues our life, I'm ready and willing to do my part."

And then he grinned. "Do you remember the last time we were out here, talking like this? Bill's wedding. You asked me how to know if love was real and not just fancy. Remember that?"

"I remember you not answering."

"Have you found the answer for yourself?"

"I reckon I have," Harry told him.

Charlie nodded. "Good, because I still don't have an answer for you. I spent the better part of our first year together trying to explain love to Mere, and that was while she was in my head, feeling what I felt. She loved me even then, but she didn't know it, didn't understand it, and no amount of talk would convince her."

"That sounds about right. But she knows she loves you now well enough."

"Yeah. She killed a wizard to protect me. She stood over him, and watched the blood pour from the wound she'd slashed in his neck and chest, and suddenly realized that it had to be love if she was willing to kill for me. She understood in one devastating moment. She'd sworn an oath to the Order, and to Santiago as her Secret Keeper, but she wasn't sworn to protect me. I felt that realization flood through her. She was horrified. Devastated."

"I was not devastated," Ez said. Harry hadn't heard her approach, but she stood not four feet from them, her protruding belly like a great, round balloon under her robes. "I was disturbed, not devestated. I'd just killed a guy. Killing is never easy, even if he's trying to kill you."

"It wasn't the wizard," Charlie insisted. "You didn't want me to be right. You didn't want to be vulnerable to me. To you love was a weakness."

"I was young."

"And, I reckon, I've proved that fear well-founded a couple of times."

She smirked. "You'll be the death of me yet."

Charlie stood and she reached out. He took her hand, slipped behind her, wrapped his arms around her. Harry had never seen Ez so contented.

"Love," Charlie whispered as he kissed beside her ear.

"Yes, I love you, you miserable brute." She smiled, leaned back against him, and his hands dropped to the sides of her belly, massaging.

Suddenly self-conscious to their display, Harry turned to look out toward the orchard. He couldn't see Ginny and Tonks in the dark, and he wondered how loudly they'd object to a visit from a bloke.

Ez groaned, and Harry felt the heat creep up his neck, until she muttered a flat, "They're at it again."

"Is that Hermione?" Charlie asked. "It just sounds like a lot of screeching to me."

"Lucky you. Damn. They're coming this way."

In the next instant the Burrow door slammed open and Hermione stormed out. "You're such a child, Ron Weasley!"

And Ron was right on her heels. "I'm a child? You're the one throwing a tantrum!"

Hermione stopped short when she saw Harry and the rest of them. She threw Ron and angry look, but then tempered herself as she approached. "Where's Ginny?" she asked Harry. "I thought she was out with you."

"She and Tonks went to the orchard."

"Hmph," Hermione said, with a glared at Ron. "I think, perhaps, I'll join them."

"Oh, come on," Ron grumbled. "Hermione. Wait." He grabbed her hand. "You're not going to be angry all night, are you?"

"What do you think?"

"I think that when you and Tonks get together lately you drink too much."

She pulled away from him. "I most certainly do not. You just want me for sex and you're sore you're not going to get any."

"Yeah, that's right," Ron said sarcastically. "All I want you for is sex. Never mind that I love you and care what happens to you, never mind that when you're drunk it's like you don't want anything to do with me."

"What did you say?"

"Oh, I just want you for sex. You know me so well."

"No, that part about loving me."

"What?"

"You said you love me."

"Yeah? So?"

"So? _So?_ So, you've never said it before!"

"So?"

Hermione threw her hands up. "You're impossible!"

"And you're mental!"

"Yeah? Well, perhaps that's why I love you, too!"

"Perhaps!"

"Good!"

"Good!"

Arms tightly crossed, they each stood glaring at the ground. When one of them finally spoke, it was Hermione. "I'm going to find Tonks and Gin-"

Before she finished the thought, Ron grabbed her wrist again, pulled her to him, and kissed her mouth. Hermione didn't struggle, but instead her arms went around his neck. Charlie laughed at their about face, and kissed Ez's ear. She laughed, too.

"You love me," Hermione whispered.

"You love me," Ron echoed.

And then Charlie and Ez started snogging, and Harry had to get the hell out of there. But, as he retreated back into the house, he heard Hermione's coy, "Erm…Ron, what are you thinking?" plain as day.

* * *

The tent was packed. In truth, the four of them had been living in it for nearly three weeks. When they first set it up in the Burrow's garden Ez had made an off-handed remark about it being smart, saying the same properties that kept Hermione's mind from penetrating out, would keep Voldemort's – or anyone else's - from getting in to Harry. Smart, she'd said. Clever. He didn't tell her that it had just been a lucky side-effect to Harry wanting some privacy with Ginny out of earshot of her parents, and when she gave him a cheeky grin afterward, Harry wondered if she didn't already know.

In any event, they did all their planning in the tent, brewed their potions, and practiced their spells. There was just one bedroom, but the couch pulled out to a sleeper, and the shower had hot water, so living wasn't too rough by Harry's standard. The four of them worked incessantly in their tight quarters, and Harry dropped into bed each night, Ginny curled beside him, and fell almost instantly asleep.

"Harry." Ginny's voice, and then a yawn. "Harry, luv, Mum's come for us. Ez is having the baby."

"Mum?"

"My mum."

"What time is it?"

"Early. Come on. Charlie wants you."

"Me?" Harry sat up. "Why the hell does he want me?" He pushed his glasses on his face, but his eyes were still bleary. He stifled a yawn.

"You now know as much as I do. Your trousers are over there. Get dressed. I'll fetch Ron and Hermione."

The moon hadn't set yet, and the night air was warm and moist. One of the upstairs lights was on, and a muffled groan floated out. Ez was in pain. Perhaps Charlie wanted him to fetch the midwife – not that Harry had the slightest as to where to find one.

In the kitchen, Mr. Weasley sat hunched over a mug of steaming coffee. He waved his wand when they came in, and offered them each a cup.

"Will likely be hours. The first ones always are. Go on up, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. "They're waiting for you."

"You've got to be joking."

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "It's the Bond. Charlie's feeling everything Esmerelda feels. Has been for hours, and it's making her sick, poor girl. He said you're to sit with her until the baby arrives."

"What?" Harry gasped.

"Oh, chin up, Harry. She's been laboring most of the night. Molly says it shouldn't be too much longer. An hour or two–"

"But-but you just said it will likely be hours! And, I don't know anything about babies or…birth!"

"Oh, Molly will take care of that," Mr. Weasley assured with a wink. "She's a seasoned professional. Not to worry."

Charlie stumbled down the stairs, holding his stomach with one arm and his back with the other, and leaning rather heavily on his mother.

"Ah, Harry. Good," she said. "Go on up, and I'll be there in a moment. Ginny, dear, fetch Charlie a Pain Banishing Potion from the cupboard, will you? Ron, you're to go with Charlie out to the pond. That will be far enough away, don't you think, dear?"

"Reckon so," Charlie muttered. His eyes were tight with pain as he looked at Harry. "I won't be far. If she should need me…really need me…"

"You'll know before the rest of us, I expect, if that's ever the case," his mother said lightly. "Go on, Charlie. We'll tend to your wife. It won't be long now."

"Harry…I don't know if letting her Read you will help or not, but whatever you can do…the pain is terrible…"

"Worse than having your leg sliced open?" Ron asked, incredulous.

"I don't remember much of that," Charlie said, and then gasped and nearly collapsed to the ground. Luckily Ron was there, and he shoved a shoulder under Charlie's arm to catch him. He steered him out the kitchen door, and Ginny followed them out, a flask in her hand.

Mrs. Weasley, smiling, cupped Harry's cheek. "You look terrified." Harry swallowed, and tried to relax a little. "It's all right, Harry. Esmerelda's doing a fine job of it. There's nothing to worry about past fetching her water or casting a Chill Charm on her pillows. Poor dear is working so hard. The first one's always the most difficult. Well, the first three, really, but don't tell her that now."

"What about me, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked. "How can I help?"

"You might want to go with Charlie," Harry suggested. "If Ez is already in pain…"

Hermione looked crestfallen, but she nodded. "Right. Well, then. I'll just…" She nodded to the door, and then followed Ginny and the rest of them out.

Ez was curled on the bed in Charlie and Bill's old room, where she and Charlie had been living since they left Hogwarts. It would be another week before Moody, with Charlie's help, finished charming the cottage they'd found in an isolated hollow on the Isle of Skye. Apparently making something as big as a house unplotable took a bit of doing.

"Another contraction, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, cooing to her daughter-in-law as she carefully sat down beside her on the bed. She brushed damp strands from Ez' forehead. "And how long did that one last?"

"Forever," Ez grumbled.

"Yes, well, it should be a few minutes before the next. Would you like some tea?"

Eyes closed, Ez just shook her head.

"I'll fetch some biscuits, then," Mrs. Weasley said, before touching Ez's shoulder. "You're almost there, dear. And then you'll have a perfect little bundle in your arms. Just think about that when it gets difficult."

When Mrs. Weasley left the room, Ez dissolved into broken sobs. She wore a thin gown, damp from her labor. The blankets had been kicked to the foot of the bed, and an assortment of pillows had been piled against the headboard above her head. She rolled her face into one of the pillows to muffle her cries. The veins on her neck stood out. Harry's heart went out to her.

He carefully stepped to the other side of the bed, and sat. Ez stilled. A hiccough escaped.

"Er…" Harry muttered. "Hurt that bad, does it?"

Ez jumped a little, and then furiously wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "I didn't know you were here."

"Charlie said it might help if you Read me."

She choked on a laughed. "You don't want in here. No, I'm OK. Really. Charlie's just worried."

"Truth be told, I'm a bit worried about you, too."

"About me?" She forced herself up to sitting, and leaned heavily against the bed's headboard and pillows. Her hands smoothed over her swelling stomach. "This is insane. I can't be a mother. I just can't."

"A bit late for that now, isn't it?"

"I'm going to fuck it up."

"No, you won't. You're going to be brilliant. You might want to lose the F-bombs, though."

She smiled, tired and weary, but a smile nonetheless. "I hate my mother."

"But you love Charlie. And you're going to love your baby."

"What if I don't?"

"You will. Of course you will."

"Not all parents love their children."

"And not all parents are your parents," Harry said. "You're not your mother. You're caring and generous."

"I'm not."

"You are. Look at all you've done for me this year – for me and Ginny. I would've destroyed everything I have with her if it hadn't been for you."

"Harry–"

"And you saved my life. You did. You protected me from Voldemort, and taught me to protect myself."

"OK, enough of the Ez love fest," she smirked. "I get it. Just…thanks for coming up to sit with me."

"Any time."

"I have something for you. Top drawer." She nodded to the chest of drawers by the window. "On the left." Amid various knickers in a spectrum worthy of Tonks, Harry found a small canvas sack, closed with a ribbon. "It's the money Ron gave us."

"How did you–"

"Don't worry about it. But there's something in there for you, too."

"For me?" Harry peered in the bag.

"It's not a Horcrux or anything really useful. That would've been something, eh? But seeing how it's your birthday and all…" Harry pulled out a small wrapped box, with a big red bow, and Ez's smile grew wide. "I hope you don't have one already."

He tore the paper, and opened the lid. "Thank you," he said, though he wasn't sure what to make of it. A flat, rounded stone, with a Rune carved on it. "What does it say?"

"The word rune comes from ancient _runa_, it means secret. 'Whisper.' It's a powerful symbol of protection."

"You worried that I'd already had one."

She snorted. "Santiago gave it to me when I first met him. When I first learned to Shield my mind."

"It's warm."

"It's the magic," she told him. "It's never done anything for me, but I like the way it feels in my hand. Maybe it'll be helpful to you."

"Thank–" Ez's groan stopped him.

She closed her eyes, winced, and slowly curled over her belly. When he touched her shoulder she whimpered, tensed, and then slipped back down on to her side. Harry didn't think she was breathing – her face was turning beet red.

"Ez?" She didn't respond, and Harry felt a flicker of panic course through him. Was he supposed to do something? "Ez?" Mrs. Weasley had said fetch her water, but Ez didn't look like she was thirsty.

"What if it hates me?" Ez whispered so quietly Harry almost missed it. He slipped closer to her, sat beside her on the bed.

"You're not your mother," Harry told her. "Your baby will love you."

"How do you know?"

Harry smiled for her. "Because we all love you, Ez."

She snorted, and then curled tighter. Her body was stiff with pain, her face strained and streaked with tears. Her eye make-up had been rubbed away, and she looked exhausted and vulnerable. And young, Harry thought. He often forgot that she was just six years older than him.

When she relaxed a little, Harry leaned closer. "Is there anything I can do? Shall I fetch a midwife?"

"No, no. Not unless you're willing to go against Molly. She has her heart set on delivering her first grandchild."

"If you want a midwife, I'll fetch you one," Harry insisted.

"You're such a rebel."

"I'm serious."

Ez sighed. Relaxed a bit. The pain seemed to recede. "Just sit with me. Distract me. How are things going with Ginny? Well, eh?"

"Brilliant."

"She's making Charlie laugh," Ez said with a faint smile curling the corner of her mouth. "They're alike in so many ways. It must be weird to have siblings."

"I've never really thought of Ginny and Charlie being at all alike. I mean, they're both good in a fight, but–"

"Right. And neither of them are really fighters. They're lovers – although, I'd say Charlie more of a romantic. But they're not fighters. They're good in a fight because of us. Because of who we are."

This didn't make sense to Harry. "Who are we?"

"Are you kidding? I'm a warrior, so Charlie has to be good in a fight. It's how he's survived so long. I've done that to him."

"And who am I?" He certainly wasn't a warrior.

Ez cocked her head to one side. "You know who you are, Harry. You're the boy who lived. You're the Hero."

"I'm no hero." Though something that Luna once said to him haunted the back of his mind.

"You're my hero. Now hold my fucking hand. I feel it coming on again."

* * *

It was late morning when the contractions came almost on top of each other, and Ez's moans turned desperate, that Mrs. Weasley finally sent Harry away.

"Is it happening?" Percy asked from the living room. He and Penny sat on the couch enjoying what looked like tea and cakes. Fred and George were there as well, along with a worried looking Ron and Mr. Weasley.

"Where did the lot of you come from?" Harry asked, rounding the bottom of the stairs.

"How is she?" Ron looked a little pale. "Is it dreadful? Is there blood?"

"Is she in terrible pain?" George asked.

"Writhing in agony?" Fred said.

"Oi! Reckon we could start a new line? Lamaze lozenges?"

"Contraction Cordials?"

"Numbing Nougat?"

Fred laughed. "Brilliant!"

"It's been so quiet," Mr. Weasley said, looking anxious, and glancing nervously up the stairs. "I remember loads of screaming. And shouting. Swearing. Threats to my life. Especially the first time."

"Oh, she threatened him from time to time when the contractions got bad," Harry assured. "But she's managing well enough. She says at least he's sharing the pain with her." All of the wizards winced in sympathy.

Penny rolled her eyes. "As he should! Why should witches be the only ones to suffer?"

"Because it's the miracle of childbirth," Ron said, indignantly. "It's a witch's job."

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, coming in from the kitchen, a scrub brush in one hand and a soapy plate in another. "Did I hear you correctly? A witch's _job_?"

Tonks was right behind her with a wet towel draped over her shoulder. "Wotcher, Harry. How is she?"

"I didn't mean job, exactly, no, I mean…place," Ron stammered.

"_Place_?" This didn't go over any better. Hermione's eyes went wide, and her brows rose indignantly. "Fred, how about a Wheeze to give wizards a _place_ in the miracle of childbirth? Daddy Dots?"

"Tea and Empathy?" Penny supplied.

"Oh, that should be a daily standard," Hermione said approvingly.

"Gent's Gestation Jellies?" George suggested.

"Oi, there!" Fred complained. "Whose side are you on?"

"Sorry. Got carried away."

"She's started the pushing," Harry answered Tonks. "She's miserable."

"Poor bint," Tonks murmured. "Charlie's suffering, too."

It was then that the kitchen door opened, and Ginny helped Charlie in. He was holding his stomach, looking as if he might collapse or be sick at any moment. They went straight for the stairs, but Charlie jerked on the bottom step, and grabbed for the railing.

"Another?" Ginny asked. "But you just had one."

Charlie didn't answer, he gasped and doubled over. His red face was as slick with sweat as Ez's, and he grunted as the grips of the contraction hit him.

"Labor Lemon Licks," George cried. "Baby Belly Belts!"

"Son, let me help you," Mr. Weasley said. He shoved a shoulder under Charlie's arm, and with Ginny under the other, the three of them staggered up the stairs.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed. His eyes slid to Hermione's. She was looking just as frightened as he was. "Reckon he'll be all right?"

"As soon as Ez has the baby," Penny assured. "Can't be long now, can it?"

"Reckon I should fetch that midwife?" Percy asked, still looking apprehensively up the stairs. "Mum said no, but I reckon she didn't count on the both of them going into labor."

"Perhaps we could all use a sherry," Tonks suggested. She'd already charmed a line of glasses, and the decanter from the cupboard began to pour a healthy swallow into each. She handed the first to Percy, and Penny pulled him down beside her.

"Paternal Pangs Poppers. They could be peanut flavored. Yeah, I should write that one down."

A terrible cry from upstairs stopped George in his tracks. They all looked up and held their collective breath. Another anguished, muffled scream. A sob. And then the high-pitched wail of a baby taking its first gulp of air, and being none too happy about it.

"It's a boy!" Charlie, half-laughing, called down to them. "My boy!"

Everyone raised their glasses in hurrahs and excited laughter. Mr. Weasley came bounding down the stairs. "A boy!" he dithered. "A grandson! Loads of black hair!"

"And Ez?" Tonks asked.

"Oh, she's splendid! A brilliant effort there at the end. I say, what a witch she is! Charlie was practically passed out, and there was our Esmerelda, bringing new life into the world!"

_Our Esmerelda_. She was going to die when Harry told her.

The celebrations were brought to an abrupt halt when the kitchen door slammed open, and Mad-Eye Moody bolted in. "Everybody out!" he barked. "The Burrow's been compromised!"

"What? But Ezmerelda's–" Mr. Weasley began, but he didn't get any farther.

"They got Remus," Moody told them. Tonks gasped, dropped her glass. "They'll be here any moment! Everybody out!"

"Lupin wouldn't tell them anything," Ron insisted.

"He won't have to," Harry reminded him. "They've got a Legilimens."

"Charlie! Get the baby!" Mr. Weasley yelled up the stairs.

Tonks, momentarily thrown off her game was three steps behind him. Harry bolted up after her, and reached the second landing just as the first blast of magic shook the house. There was a scream – Mrs. Weasley, Harry was certain, and then rapid fire from above. When Harry hit the third landing there was the distinct BANG of Disapperation.

"_Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!_"

Charlie was still screaming when Harry forced his way into the room past Tonks.

Mrs. Weasley was on the floor, bleeding from a wound across her chest, and Mr. Weasley knelt beside her, a corner of a blanket pressed against the wound. Charlie was by the wardrobe, a screeching infant, pink and wiggling, against his chest. He stared, dumbstruck at the empty bed, and the hole in the wall behind it, still smoking around its singed edges.

"It was Standau," Tonks said, breathless. "I recognized the bastard."

Charlie gasped, grunted, and before he collapsed, he shoved the baby at Tonks. "I have…I have to go. Nym, he's hurting her. Blood. Oh, Merlin, if he takes her too far the Bond…fuck…" His face screwed up, and he fell forward. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck..."

Tonks dropped down beside him, the screeching baby half swaddled, and cradled against her chest. "Where is she? I'll find her."

Charlie shook his head, and gasping, touched his son's head. "His name is Santiago. Mere wants…Santiago."

Then Charlie turned to look up at Harry. He held out his wand. "You're the Secret Keeper now. Take it."

Harry's heart stopped. "What? No! Charlie, we have to find Ez! Do you know where she is?"

He swallowed, shook his head. "You were always supposed to be the Secret Keeper. It's what Dumbledore intended all along, when you were ready. There's so much…I don't have time to explain. Take the oath. Here and now. Then you'll understand. Take it! Harry, damn it! He's hurting her! Take the bloody wand!"

Harry snatched it from him, panic taking over common sense.

Luckily Mr. Weasley had a cooler head. "Then, take mine, son. And bring your wife home to us."

"Harry," Charlie said, pointing a blunt finger at him, "you can't follow. You'll understand when you take the oath. Take it now. Don't come after us." He looked back at the baby. "And, tell my son–"

"We will," his mother assured. "Go, Charlie!"

And then he was gone.

The baby went quiet.

Harry held Dumbledore's wand.

"You'll know the incantation." Moody stood behind Harry in the door. "Do you, Potter?"

"Yeah." He wasn't sure how he knew it, but he did. Had he heard Charlie say it a year ago? Forever ago. He shouldn't remember it.

"Then say it now."

Harry took a breath, lifted his wand, and touched it to Dumbledore's. "_Ishcantus pomilium servetia."_

Magic shot through him, luminous and sharp. In an instant Harry felt every cell in his body, both in pain and pleasure, as he came more alive than he'd ever been. More aware. He took his first breath. "Merlin…"

His wand shattered, and the pieces burst into the most brilliant white flames Harry had ever seen. Stars, twinkling and dying. And then, Dumbledore's wand felt a part of his other hand; as if its heart beat for the first time; as if it took its first breath, too.

And then Harry knew. Everything that had ever been Whispered was suddenly in his memory. Dumbledore's thoughts, and Charlie's; the voices of a hundred people, their fears and wants and sacrifices. Their secrets.

_The twin cores cancel each other out. The only way to win is to kill one_. Snape's voice. Snape knew Harry would become Secret Keeper. It had been his idea.

_He knows it was me. I'm taking Lily and Harry, and we're going into hiding. Peter will protect us. Good old Peter._ His father's words. His father's voice. So young.

Dumbledore. _It's in Godric's Hollow, between James and Lily's headstones. It put it there so you could find it, Harry, but only when you're ready - only when you have all the pieces you will need to put the puzzle together. My wand, battle experience, your friends gathered tightly about you. Tightly, Harry. Don't lose sight. Don't get distracted. Love. _

"Harry?" Hermione's voice, and her cold hand on his arm.

"It all makes sense now," he said, not to anyone in particular, but just because of the wonder of it. "Merlin…Dumbledore knew. I can't believe he knew and didn't…" And then another thought occurred to Harry as even more memories flooded through him. He turned to Mad-Eye, the ex-Auror, Order's guard. "They're coming. The Burrow's been compromised."

Moody nodded. "Death Eaters."

"But…but they were just here," Mrs. Weasley cried.

"Those were the family Wizmere," Tonks told her. "Harry, what do we do?"

"They'll be after the baby. Standau was sloppy, leaving without him. Protect him, Tonks. Hide him. He's your charge."

She nodded. "Good luck, Secret Keeper." She closed her eyes and Disapparated with the baby held tight against her chest.

And then to Moody he ordered, "See Mr. and Mrs. Weasley safe, and then find Kingsley. He'll know what to do."

"Secret Keeper," Moody said in deference. Mr. Weasley helped his wife to stand, and the both of them took a firm hold on Mad-Eye's coat sleeves. Then, the three of them were gone.

"What about Charlie?" Ron asked.

"Snape will help him."

Ron's face dropped, Ginny gasped, and Hermione cried, "What? Harry? You can't be serious. Snape's dead. Isn't he?"

"There isn't time to explain," Harry told them. "There's too much…too much in my head. Hermione, fetch the tent." She nodded and hurried out of the room. "Ron, we'll need our brooms. Hermione will ride with you?"

"Of course," Ron said, and then he cast a Summoning Spell.

As the three brooms flew in the broken window, Harry turned to Ginny. Her face was set, her wand gripped tight, ready for a fight. "It starts now," he told her.

"We're ready."

They were. "I can't promise to get you back to Hogwarts for your last year."

"Harry, that's not important."

"It is. When we leave the Burrow, we won't be coming back until the war is over. I should've let you say good-bye to your parents properly."

There was an explosion from down stairs that rocked the entire house.

"Hermione," Ron gasped, his face instantly white from fear.

"They're here!" Harry shouted. "Out the window!" He grabbed a broom from Ron and shoved it at Ginny. "Now!"

She mounted and flew out while Harry dragged Ron through the wall and glass debris left from the last attack. "Ron, go!"

"Hermione!"

"Is in the garden!"

The two of them barely made it out when the first ball of fire slammed the wall behind them and exploded. Ginny was zooming toward them, Hermione holding tight behind her, and the tent pack slung across Hermione's shoulder.

"East!" Harry called to them, and the four of them took off as fast as their brooms would carry them, dodging spells.

Harry glanced back just long enough to see the Burrow engulfed in flames. Malfoy's silvery blond hair shined against the blaze. Bellatrix's mad laugh made the hair on his neck stand on end. And, from the second floor window, flames behind him, Harry saw Snape's satisfied snarl.

_The boy is pompous. Arrogant. He doesn't trust me._

_You've given him very little reason to, Severus._

_I've saved his miserable, pathetic life._

_But he doesn't know that yet. One day he will know what I know._

_Merlin save us when that brat becomes our Secret Keeper._

And then, Harry remembered the first time he met Ez, crisper and more vivid than he'd ever remembered anything before.

_He'll never be able to defeat You-Know-Who!_ she'd said.

It was a year ago, but what a bloody year. _His name is Voldemort_, Harry had told her. _And yes, I will._


	35. Epilogue

Epilogue

They stood in what used to be Ron's room, in front of the mirror; Harry in his new dress robes, and Hermione in the loveliest gown he'd ever seen. White flowers ringed her head like a crown, and white ribbons held her curls up off her shoulders. The healing scars on her back and legs didn't show, and if Harry hadn't seen her receive them, he never would've known they were there. Now, months later, she looked whole once again. Beautiful, radiant, and still…pensive.

"You're nervous?" he asked, even though he knew that wasn't it. Over the past year Hermione had faced down werewolves, vampires and infiri, and the very darkest of evils. She was far from a wilting flower, and not likely to let a little ceremony unsettle her.

"I can't help it, Harry. It just feels wrong. We said we would wait until the war was over."

"Voldemort is dead and the Death Eaters are being tried. How long would you wait?"

She met his gaze in the mirror. "You think they're dead, don't you?"

Harry swallowed. He spent a great deal of time in recent months trying very hard not to think just that. But Poenari in Romania was now the true ruin that it had been glamoured to resemble, and the Wizmere family, like the Dark Lord himself, was no more. Their dungeons were empty, and Charlie and Ez were no where to be found. Six months of searching for them day and night, had turned up nothing.

"Oh, why did I agree to this?" Hermione fretted.

"Because Ron's been insufferable since we got back, and it was the only way to get him to shut up about it," Harry reminded her. "And because you've waited long enough. You want to marry him, and he wants to marry you. And because you're pregnant."

"Quiet, you. You're not supposed to know about that yet." Finally he got a smirk out of her.

"We'll find them, Hermione. Your wedding today isn't going to change that."

There was a brief rap at the door, and Ginny poked her head in. "Ron's asking for you," she said to Harry. "And my, don't you look dashing?"

Ginny looked very pretty, too. He loved her in soft green robes. He kissed her on his way out.

Harry made his way slowly down the narrow stair rebuilt by Bill and Percy and Tonks, board by board, and spell by spell. There were a lot of memories tied up in the house, though his thoughts felt skewed as he passed steps that no longer squeaked and floors that appeared sound. The Burrow had never looked better, but Harry missed the old house. This new one was too straight, too level. There was no ghoul in the attic any longer, and the Gnomes had yet to reappear in the garden - though Ginny suggested it was the layers of protective charms laid over the whole property, and not the right angles to the house that kept them out.

Ron was by the garden wall, in proper dress robes and a fresh hair cut. He squinted against the afternoon sun, tugging at his collar. He looked warm.

"You all right, mate?" Harry asked. "You look a little peaked."

"Remind me again why I agreed to do this?"

"Agreed? You've been begging for ages. Something about making a proper witch out of her, and wanting to stake your claim. I believe she hexed you once or twice over it."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, not amused. "Listen. When were you planning to set out again? Because Percy and Penny have given us a week in their cottage in France as a wedding present. A honeymoon, you know?"

"That sounds brilliant! You should definitely go."

"Yeah? You know she's going to want to keep searching with you and Ginny. Of course, I want to as well, but…but it's our honeymoon, and all."

"No, really. Go. We can owl if we find anything."

"Yeah?"

"Go."

Ron nodded his thanks. "Any word from Lupin?"

Lupin had been found raving less than a week after his capture. They'd stripped his mind and left him to his madness. Shacklebolt arranged for a safe place and treatment, but Lupin had made slow progress over the past year.

"He still won't see me."

"It's the guilt," Ron said.

"It wasn't his fault."

"When we find them, we'll find Lupin, too."

Harry wasn't sure it would be that easy, but if they were to bring Charlie and Ez home it would go a long way to help Lupin heal.

The sound of someone Apparating caught Harry's attention, and set his battle instincts on edge. The wedding was to be a small affair and, as Moody had arranged, all of the guests had arrived more than an hour before. Shacklebolt had the Burrow under the tightest of Security Charms to keep out the unwanted press that their new fame tended to attract. Saving the wizarding world might not pay well, as Ron discovered, but people did stand up and take notice.

Except that it wasn't a wedding crasher that Harry saw stumble over the lawn toward the house. It was–

"Charlie!" Mrs. Weasley screamed, and in heels, took off running toward her son. She practically threw herself at him. As did most of the wedding party.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Ron whispered.

The relief that coursed through Harry blurred his eyes and twisted a knot in his chest. And yet, Harry could see that Charlie was changed. His normally jovial face was drawn, humorless, and more angular than Harry had ever seen. His broad, muscular body was smaller, wasted. He wasn't a hero returning from the war, he was a casualty. Harry held his breath, afraid of the next blow.

Charlie, for his part, barely seemed to register the people around him. His gaze fell on Tonks almost immediately, and then little Sani in her arms. Everyone quieted. His expression was one of unbounded grief, of despair. Seeing Charlie look on his son, Harry knew for certain that Charlie had come home alone.

Tonks stepped forward past Fred and George and Mr. Weasley, kissed her foster son on the forehead, and then reluctantly handed him to his father. She cried. Harry was certain she was just as relieved to see Charlie as he was, but he also knew that her heart broke when she gave the baby away.

Charlie took his son. Tonks' distress was contagious, and little Sani threw a fit.

"He looks like her." Charlie's voice was hoarse. He handed his son back, and the baby quieted; his pudgy cheek against Tonks' shoulder and his pudgy fist in his mouth. "Why did he have to look like her?"

"Oh, Charlie, pet," his mum cooed, and linked her arm through his. "You look like you're about to fall over. Come sit down. Eat something. Everyone's here. Ronnie's about to get married. Our Ron! Can you believe it? I think he's gotten Hermione in a family way, but, well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, and now that the war's over–"

"It's not over, mum. It'll never be over. And I can't stay."

"But…but you've only just come home."

Charlie's gaze was hard and flat when he turned to Harry. "You're still my Secret Keeper." There was a question in that statement, and Harry knew what he was asking.

"We've been looking for you for months."

"I know how that goes," Charlie said humorlessly. "I know, Harry. I understand too well. You didn't fail me, I failed…I couldn't protect…" He closed his eyes, swallowed thickly. "Standau's still alive. Just. He's the last. Got to rectify that."

"I'll go with you."

Charlie shook his head. "It's personal." His eyes landed again on little Sani, his thumb in his mouth. "Thank you," he whispered to Tonks when his voice broke over the words.

"We're going with you," Ron told him, and when Charlie continued to shake his head he added, "We've seen a battle or two. We know our way around a wand."

"We're going," Harry agreed.

"All of us," Bill said. Mr. Weasley nodded, as did the twins, Percy and Penny. "We're a family. And she was ours."

Charlie's face screwed tight, and he looked up at the clouds in the sky to keep his grief from spilling over. "She was mine."

"What about the Bond?" Tonks asked.

His eyes strayed to his son, and then away again. It seemed painful for his gaze to linger there. "She was wrong, wasn't she?" He was angry. And Harry thought that Ez had very nearly been right. Charlie certainly hadn't survived the Sever unscathed.

"You're tired, Charlie," Harry said. "You can stop fighting now."

"I came back to Whisper. Then I'll go."

"You need us."

"_I need her!_" Charlie snapped, harsh voice raised, and emotion twisting his face.

Mrs. Weasley reached out to her son, ran a soothing hand down his arm. "Charlie, dear. Your son needs his father. You can't just leave him. He's a part of her."

"No, no…I can't stay. Please don't ask me to."

"Come into the house," Harry said. "Sit for a spell. I'm your Secret Keeper. Let me carry the burden with you."

"It won't help," Charlie muttered.

"No," Harry admitted, heart heavy. "But then, at least you won't be alone."


End file.
